writing primarily about queerness, feminine sexuality, sexual & religious trauma
an extraordinarily intermediate trip

an extraordinarily intermediate trip

an extraordinarily intermediate trip

become bite size hazy
mist enters along bottom
soft orange pink and blue
but maybe mostly green
more mint green – not neon

sitting still then
starts to glide to
slow – quick space

lie very stationary
feel the ants rise
above the ground
and into hand next
to burned mouth
don’t worry they
won’t hurt right
away – that
takes awhile

close the sockets
that hold eyes in
feel the emotionlessness
vibrate teeth nose knuckles
ya know how pins do
or lines turned to runny –

away! that favorite place
sink below the belt of
upholstery with crispy
leftovers attached to
cotton mouth messes

people hate that
lifeless happiness
ping of codependent
debts circling
some kind of blow
jobs and carjacking

waking up is a bitch. and so is the alaskan cold.
but the money wife and responsibility is pleasant.