I’ll put it out there: I am scarred by the nostalgic indicipherability of my own desires; I an engulfed by the intimidating unknown, pushed through darkness and dragged down by the irretrievable past sweetness of my memories.

I am so imperfect, can you love me when really my soul is deformed? Will you love me anyhow?

Watch out for intellect, because it knows so much it knows nothing and leaves you hanging upside down, mouthing knowledge as your heart falls out of your mouth.

Even so, I must admire your skill. You are so gracefully insane.

The grass as bristly and stout as chives and me wondering when the ground will break and me wondering how anything fragile survives

I’ll put it out there: I am scarred by the nostalgic indicipherability of my own desires; I an engulfed by the intimidating unknown, pushed through darkness and dragged down by the irretrievable past sweetness of my memories.

Yesterday I did not want to be borrowed but this is the typewriter that sits before me and love is where yesterday is at.