mind.wolf

February 2012

8 posts

“absolute and diminishing.
vitality existing through
the continued stroke, the
black spread and avalanche,
my oil pastels and charcoal.
and i’ve burnt far too many
cigarettes this morning
returning to that space,
haunted.
resolved only to anxiety,
perpetual.
my anxiety has
allowed me to live.” —myself

Feb 29, 2012

“i began to bleed before any blow occurred.
provoked, my own insanity, my restlessness.
i had cleaned my place for you in hopes of having you here.
i see now that i am exempt from love.
i am the darkest monster, the ugliest creature.
i am without failing, the most terrible thing.
my hatred springs and bursts and boldly consumes.
my palms are known mirrors of images doomed.
blood stained, lips bathe and gather.
your eyes soft dark brown, mute.
your hair rather, a traveler’s dune.
and i’ve sank, sank beneath the blue surface brood.” —myself

Feb 18, 2012

“i write for no one.
may my lungs desert me.
unearthed, your crest unheard.
i implode, the violent herd stirs me.
i vanquish with no more the words,
no more. i vanquish dear loathsome fern.
you’ve grown in me but my heart shows no colors,
no flowers my love. only dark nights alone.” —myself

Feb 16, 20122 notes

“almost a river.” —

Feb 16, 2012

“confined to this space whence withered,
the smoke on the surface of my finger sails.
the phantoms whirl and i’ve dreamt these words.
they would gladly break me, my limbs and violin.
they would with no urge but my own, take me.
the nightingale.” —myself

Feb 15, 20121 note

“the stale smell, my own flesh rotting.
in tears i swim and make my bed.
i hoped this life would cease, my illness feeding.
i’ve said too much. i sleep with lights on and hide
from my madness. the nightshade.
my hands are cold and righteous.
my breath is slowed. i lean with boats
where the evenings comb, the ocean’s breathing.
forgive my life, i haven’t learnt.
forgive my eyes for seeing.” —myself

Feb 13, 20121 note

“I have loved the habitation of thy house.” —

Feb 8, 20121 note

“have you seen the thread passing?
a single coil like flesh, a ghost.
on mornings i sit in misery where
my breathing hosts the silence, rambling.
i felt the curse. i felt its air enclosing.
i fell with knees untold, ultramarine.
i held its cold steel and lingered.
and if i were to squeeze i’d linger.
my temple and skull, my cheek bones.
my, how dreadful the sun, how dreadful
the sun and foe.” —myself

Feb 3, 2012