a little nestea and a little honesty |
with each day, degrade...in blind eyes of escape...no yield to sobriety in a world of heart ache.
Each night, the social magnet's forte vanishes to light...and left, as my body fades unperturbed by ...
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
apocolypse |
The%2520bed%2520spread%2520has%2520gone%2520wild%252C%2520in
%2520a%2520tangle%2520of%2520blue%252C%2520and%2520the%2520n
ew%2520moon%2527s%2520lines%2520have%2520sparked%2520disaste
r%252E%2520Through%2...
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
alcohol |
My dad called me for the first time in weeks last night. He was drunk off his ass, ofcourse. Our conversation started off as expected...he asked me how i was...but i realized, that he probably only as...
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
Stream of consciousness rant |
the tired day wears on. One, long day, stretched and skewed to unimaginable complexity...and the simplest version of life, that man has yet to attest to.
Silent days and nights, overcome by strobing...
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
don't take this too seriously....(if you do, you'll think me "a loon") |
standing over the body, or more of the mutilated and infested remains of Robert Alexander Plier was a rather emotionally-barren affair. The stench of man turned sour, effortlessly masked under strengt...
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
X |
Lung inflation-expand in plastic
cellophane sensations melt to liquid dust,
and hearts grow tense-
pumping in the trust of chemical smiles-
tinged with the smeer,
of teary cocaine girls,
Mouthin...
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
i tried to write a short romance story..not too sexually graphic though. |
watch as lip meets lip, tongue greets tongue, and many-a-garment slither away. No haste to be made, without proper atonement, as the sun feeds warm snodgrass, blanketing our bodies in its fresh scent....
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
it was amazing, but never again |
itching veins, inside closing fingers-in warmth and white light-a hovering spirit-along the carpeted shadow path-through window panes-a glassy night sky-floods resting bodies-With butane veins-starlig...
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
that's why |
you're a cunt.
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
penile proficiency phillip's head |
affectionate branches, interlocking with green smokes, under green twighlight. Alone under the moon, the sky. A requiem to another era of degredation.
Closet cases with no light...mindless giggling ...
Posted by rob on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
