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infinitesplinters · 4 months
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Might Even
So tragic, so early. If'n my plans hadn't gone to pot I might have the nerve to watch the trees bare naked in the winter wind. You know how the day escapes especially when you haven't got anything to do. Knowing that you loved me, I'm inured to the tragic fuse, a hand running through your hair, sweet suede carapace of the perfect hour I let escape me. That's just living, grace. I decided a long time ago I didn't want to be here. Yet the fire burns in us all, yet the Hamlet-ian paradox haunts this beggar for soup and soul. To make meaning from some thing. To make a kind of lovely art of falling apart. It's all so cute until the ambulance bill arrives: insurance covered it this time, I want to scream like no one can hear me. You say something loving, my neck stands up higher than any dope, the last of the fools, growing all the time, wrecked on nerve pills, the wasted hours seem so important. I never hesitated to throw myself over the first story balcony.
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infinitesplinters · 4 months
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Born of a Little Lie
Dreamers, we never learn, the sunlight pours into the blackout curtains, there's a whole world outside of me, outside these four walls. Too late for opuses & dandelion wishes, what I'd settle for is you in a sundress. Little white daisies line the window pane. Killer silence on the phone like a window into pain. The dark decks below my feet stink of shit & too many circles. You run back into the grocery store for miso & forgiveness from someone. You were just a laugh, just a cry, just a spaceship, something I couldn't quite place my finger on. I place my face against the glassdoor. Make cute little phrases out of my breath. The best it could do. I make the sign of sex & laugh as I walk out the door.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Dawn
And everytime I let you in, I couldn't see what you really meant. A small jacket, that quiet smile, the simplest of gestures saying I am witness of pasts and stars and dreams of the left behind. I was so worried, I was so worried about this tiny thing I call my heart. Worried about my words. Worried about my pants. One can't see through the worry. What a fool who doesn't know he is a fool. The mankind experiment demonstrated through masculinity. A collective sigh through the room. Cat scratches across my hand and I can't say I care too much. N64 graphics and the most beautiful mushroom matcha latte I ever had. When blind is blind, you can't really trust your hands, they feel what they want to feel. I've done perfect, I've done magnificent, I've done myself in. Stay forever on this nightmare sustenance, when will the suspension end or become a newfound flag. I have worked out nothing new in my head except for the place I want to be. Real friendship means telling truths. Real friendship means showing up even when it's black smoke and tears. I've been afraid of fucking up my whole life. As a result, I've been fucking up this whole life time. Grab a glass, fill it up, water only, I'm sober now. It'll be okay when the sun rises again.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Crucifix
The more I learn, the less I know about how the world turns into dust from gold, and vice-versa. To be closer to the only thing that holds the valence is valued in absentia, in retrograde. Winter snuggles & the warm blanket shines bright when there is only this weary mind to contemplate this holy dark mess it has made. Driven numb by the thousand cuts, the deepest one still lingers hard to see apart from me. At once I knew that I knew nothing. There's just these hands and these words and these poor eyes what sights they have seen. You are in marigolds, you hover about the glade, little tip toes through the garden tulips. Corresponds to Calvary. To act insane is only sane. Across the creek of my childhood, there's magnolia leaves crunching & my father smiling as he sips his Diet Coke, smelling of two cycle and sweat and Sunday. I reach to touch him but a pane of glass blocks my grip. I am pounding against the barrier again, begging to be let in. The apostrophe's a missing link to holding on to what may be gone. Late on the lake, the highway man steals the boat. Takes me out to drown but the moon is high & loud & brings the sign of healing, of seeing, of truth. Pick up the plank, carry water.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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End of Fugue
If you can't wait until the morning, I'll be there with breakfast and burned toast. Corded electromagnets with grooved ends wrap around the baluster trimmed with holly and green plastic. How many times did we forget to remember to grieve our lost kids, ourselves. No need to say it out loud. The iron view says that it's already over. A radio for a racket, squealing into the night. My pray game looks like the Lakers as of late. Somewhere between the old and new, a figment of my imagination. A figure you make into my mind. The rivulets spanning every space and time swing into the present. I'm the kind of cracker who begs for your feet just to wash them. Lord forgive them they know exactly what they do. Run away trains and music videos from the 90s. I remember the last sweet thing I said to myself in my sleep: it's okay boy now you can wake up. The nightmare is over, the night has passed, here is the light, here is the stove by which you must warm your hands.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Ring Tone
Still alive from you and you. From forests to the sun, god knows we're a little lost. Big ground to break untidy it seems even though the reward lays thick like a carpet, under fog, layered in time and pain. Who knows who you'll be? You. The everlasting symbol of hope, renewed faith, ON GOD, they say in the churches. Whether lilacs last bloomed or the butcher sharpens his knives for yours most truly divine appetite. Whetted. Little white lies are what I told myself about me. Someone told me once "there's no one to be, there's nothing to do". Much ado about nothing, no thing but being. Call me when you can, if you can. I'll pick up the phone.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Front Street Spread
Circumstances and death collapsing. Eager beaver seems on deer sunglasses. Headlights flash & circles stashing colored memory as if a disaster. You held your hand out like a friend and I forgot what this looked like. Latchkey kids & the trouble never catches up to the real threat inside me. How many words, how many likenesses, sweet oblivion of the altruistic wizard. He's got on his disguise; a wig with his name on it. Your eyes trace the outline, sighing. Smells like the person he wants every one to believe exists. You can't seem to shut it down. Brown floods every weekend. And it's always weekend. Take awhile to settle this pain: conquering reason with all the sides of consideration. Temptation is wanting to make everything all right. Nothing is alright. Everything's fine. Go to sleep now child, the fire is set already. The wind will blow and set all things right.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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All The Light That Cannot Be Named
A paw print near your neck. I can imagine how it feels to touch your skin with my lips. I once dreamed of what I got. I once let go of what I dreamed. If dental floss were rope, could I pull you from the bathroom into my arms at last? Not because I am impatient but simply I just can't wait until I see you smile again. With or without me, the tide rolls on. There is a bad moon on the rise. The song says so. I am daft and truly a wanna-be punk. Rebellious for the sight of your small demeanor, tender, incredible, powerful, bright. I am like the moon begging for your shine. Once every few weeks would be enough for me.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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A Hex on Words
The treasure I never kept. Ok, yes, let's be together as long as it is healthy for us. But if you are my home, where do I go when the winds blow an icy sheet across my back? I will never know the depth of your painlovebeauty quintessence of torn apart words. If I am waving in the breeze, you are my trunk that holds me to shore. I dream of having the right words to say, of knowing what you're thinking, of holding you like I did the first time we said the four letter word. Every voice that sings. I would envelope. In time this sting will become a gash. The passing of time makes all things more sincere. Well, what about breakfast at Sisyphus's? The dear Ophelia, tossed in the river by her own truth. And Hamlet, boy dumb boy, too eager, too uprooted. When the leaves stop falling, may there be peace on the river of your life. If there is a place for me, I will wait for you to speak my name.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Will You?
Said you're gonna be my broken dream. I'll look after you if you'll look after me. I've been the careless one. If you'd only open your door just this one last time. I would never forget how much I've fallen down. I know you can hear me through your hurting heart. I can see you with flowers in your hair. The brown looks like mahogany, a magnolia, between the leaves. I've left behind a million lives. I can't seem to win for having lost. There's not much I have offer except this small marble in my chest. Can you read my mind? Can you read my heart? He said, baby, I don't have a lot but you can have my soul. That's about all I have left to give. You might as well say you do already do. Already born again from a death enormous and chugging, will I ever learn to swim? If I can hold your hand, I will. Standing on the edge of goodbye, I can't fathom your pain. What I've done, what patience I have tried. Photos of you circle my mind. A crown of thorns all throughout my body. My cup runs over with memory and an endless love. I won't let go.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Sunset / Midnight
When pleasure has lost its purpose, the doomscrolling has found all solution, my little red cardinal still sits on a branch. Weathered, broken but still in tact. My little sparrow far away from reach, the news from the truth is that I ever loved you even if it escaped a drift. Until the worst is over. I am handcuffed to the alabaster chair, shiny and bright. How much money can buy the right to speak alive? More like fancy tricks from the liars mouth that says I must fall down eventually. Gap jacket looks like a punk silhouette skeleton that perils the thought. Of wishing you were with somebody that you're already not. A little lost but found. A little ghost from the deep underground. When roots grow up from the depths, I'll hold my head up high that I did not die. Love looks like letting go when your arms have been covered in scars and time. They say, never, they say, goodbye, they say, hello to forever I am home.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Walking
When you brought black flowers to my birthday party, I lost my liquor. Time to go, time to show, time to be everything I always wanted to be. In the presence of another. Be seen, this shame rolls off like rain from yellow jackets stinging my conscience every foolish word that escaped me. You have your hope and your powers. Symmetry of rings, stones, holes in your pockets where the divine follows. Trail of breadcrumbs but reversed course, as my life, as my meaning, where any faith becomes grounded. Make shift vegan charcuterie, breakers left to the wind. Eyes to the dirt where our grasp cannot escape we. Only feels too heavy to lift. Alone, it is impossible, together, there's the potential for drowning. Water from heavy weather, flood damage looming, shit water and desire, blocks me up from what really counts. Each day, each hour of freedom, unburdened by duties and trying to be frugal in our ways. Even though the Amazon click is so near. Capsized by a look, a glance. When you acknowledged a text, I felt like I existed again. Over here, in the pit, I am biding my time. Darkness isn't bad unless you decide you must see. There's nothing worse than unknowns: mystery bank statements, unanswered calls, my mind state on a Tuesday, when this party will wind down, when this stain will wash out. Lost in the dreams, it's hard to tell which way is up. I watched you pick up your bag and keep on walking. I'm just following suit. I don't mind, I don't want anything but to follow beautiful foot steps.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Chansons de Nuit
When upon darkness leaps, find my cane and rap the pole to wake the thing that won't be named. (self consciousness) Quarter sized chunks of ice and so abused by the powers that be in clean living, unclean, unborn, made to glow under the light of the full moon. Doing rituals are we? When we are connected as neighbors the snow melts into vanilla dreams, apples of my eye, you are there before me: in trifold, triplicate, unblemished. The bright of the morning held in perfect sequence above the world's lamenting treetops, driven to grace by necessity, driven to grace by this calamity of living, the ode goes on and on and on it goes.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Describe Something New You've Learned About Yourself
The wind through the leaves sounds like paper cups. An unfolded note is less exciting than one folded. A traveler of time and space, the clocks look like faces that mock and steal the joy of revelation. I don't like people who don't follow directions. There's no denying that the sun will rise again tomorrow. Also, me too. Raped by the addiction, echoes into the damp cool earth. As I seek some loud familiar voice that isn't hidden in black soot and quicksand. Instant masters of subtle grace, more will be revealed. I like to be alone because then I don't have to talk. Or listen so much. Come find me on skinned knees. Like so many before that tasted the grass, wet with water, hot with heat, bitter symphony of cardinals pecking, pecking at the window. Courtesans & calumny are on brand. I wish it were otherwise.
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infinitesplinters · 5 months
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Come & Go
You came unseen, undoubtedly, from an awful scene, what's inside Eurydice, you can't even see, what love says is eternally. A binding meant to hit the ground, to fall for free, to measure this time bound self-revelation: hands in hands. Like little mittens, dropped from the playground monkey bar, like little heaven peaking through the clouds, your face on a dark day. Don't worry about the debt. The flying horseshit they manufacture in the gilded age. A reflection of what truth tells us matter: a gesture, a look, a man gobbled up by insecurity, a woman who found her strength alone in death. The song plays on and the boy cannot stay long. Here's where a line is drawn, here's where the hooting comes down to mute whispers. This fat belly I have become will rot off into great spirals of confetti and sunshine. At least that's what we're praying for. Every night. Bring the balloons, we have enough clowns. And yet, there she is among the robbers, the thieves, the horse-faced liars. Waiting, absolving, unsure, unseen by anyone except by him, except by him.
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infinitesplinters · 6 months
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Mottled Knees
If time could heal all wounds, messianic shot clock spirals would be in your pretty little palms of oak trees & less speed if you don't want to slow down the world will oblige a bedside mirror quite frankly made of dust. If only you knew how you looked in the shade. Forgotten doorbells on the ceiling looking down on the best rest of us. Oaths for the trappers and the keepers of faith, lonesome sun that spins in place rabbits running the best is yet to come.
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infinitesplinters · 6 months
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Hope
In Cambridge, it happens again. On the brink of collapse, but the books are in the library, cleaned with a vacuum like money. I am not myself even when I am too much with myself. Especially. The black man from New York is talking about stocks and tires. He is much smarter than me. Bless his children without alcoholism, or rather lifted up into the light reflected through empty bottles lining dirty windowsills. Good night moon, they say. The noise machine talks to me, shows me my guilt, repeats incessantly: direction. Direction. Direction. Direction. It follows. He follows. To where? Somewhere better, I hope.
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