though I am so full I am so empty / bursting at the seams / walking along those beams.
--dear girl, in this world right now, to live means to live with your eyes closed and your third-eye open; the third eye is not the devil's nor is it the wandering spirit's, but rather it is the window (that other people force you to look out of)--
the two men were at my window when i woke up, and I think I might have screamed -
- a poem: we toe the lines, between greyscale latitude and the silky length of colour, stained by curry -
- a poem: exclusively to a fallen country? get up on your feet -
THERE IS THIS GOLDEN SUNSHINE There is this golden sunshine. The light that slowly filters in and pours into your room and fills it with a magical, fairy-like light, that makes you cringe in bed and toss-and-turn under a navy duvet until your limbs find it within themselves to wake up and face the cold…