…Who Calls So Loud - M’ed Palms
Let’s touch lips now breathe in.
I want to be what keeps you alive.
I want to give you my air.
When I’m here we talk with hands and faces.
Only when I’m away we use words.
Pull my hair & bite my neck.
Make sure I’m real.
LANG, Candid: Kofferraum der Welt, 1971.
i don’t know what anything means.
i think i’ve forgotten how to sleep,
and i’m not the only one.
i will break my spine on the page,
like the books that fill up my grave.
i am entombed in my bed
with those words that you said, that i kept :
that i’m not the only one
that you’ve never loved.
our home is no longer broken and burnt
we have demolished it
and begun to rebuild
we erected the south wall yesterday
just as the sun was setting
it meant something,
we felt that it must mean something.
we’re going to rebuild our home to be
we’ll spend our days crafting and laughing
we’ll tweak boards and tighten screws
spill paint on our pants and our arms
and create the perfect life
and in my dreams, you’re alive and you’re crying
as your mouth moves in mine, soft and sweet
rings of flowers ‘round your eyes and
I’ll love you for the rest of your life
when you’re ready
my goal in life is to be as laid back and chill but still be devilishly handsome and mysterious as fuck as jake
I watched a silly action movie with my brother and ate too many French fries
Francisco de Goya, The Dog, c. 1819-1823
i don’t exist
i am not to be known
the sentries of this world
will know me
see me as i am
i know i am not
i am not well
something is missing inside of me
the piece that makes you fit right
the piece that makes you smooth
as a ghost
or an old book
my duty is
Yeah fuck finals week!
every show flyer makes me bummed i moved but anyone in the LA/OC area should drive out for this.