~echo-in-grey
child of some electric nightmare
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still asleepthe queen of decay dictates to me through her corroded lips, lighting another joint and letting the smoke filter through her gummed-up lungs. there is no pleasure in this, only the cold comfort gained from routine and repetition grown ingrained.still asleep
she says, "girl, you had a maybe-baby but you gave it away, and now you wonder why you're lonely with only these few white-wall chemicals to cradle you. learn to desire everything you despise and maybe then you'll make something of yourself."
the queen of decay touches my broken bitten lips, crooked fingers like crow-claws
by ~echo-in-grey
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--
Let go of your throat if you're dying to breathe.
--
(I am an anarchist
an anitchrist
an asterisk)
--
Let go of your throat if you're dying to breathe.
--
...not to limit our conversations to humans, our most splendid movements to dance floors, our ears only to music made by human-made instruments, our eyes to 'taught' beauty, nor our minds to those things we all agree upon already...
--
(I am an anarchist
an anitchrist
an asterisk)
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