when i was thirteen i broke my ankle falling down a ditch - to this day the only bone i've ever broken - and i wasn't found until a few hours later when a cyclist in a neon helmet caught me whispering an on-the-fly eulogy in my own ready-made grave. they say black holes sing the same way birds and whales do - maybe even the same song. well, i shifted around too much in the dirt and my ankle didn't heal right, and it's never been the same - i swear i can hear it singing in the night, when theres not enough noise to drown it out.
moving people
i spent a few years getting nosebleeds
on my homework
and being mistaken for anybodies sister
(so long as their hair was pale and dirty)
and a few more years cracking bones and crying out (i lived on hands and knees swaddled in muddy misery)
these recent years are stretching over the rest
a time capsule of internal interims bubbling into correctedness
*warning! amateur poetry, short stories and other writings!
newest works will appear at the top of the boxes (respectively), so the lower you get the worse they will become, like freaky fish in the darkest part of the sea.
