February 18, 2018

All the negative photographs 

I see in my empty camera lens. 

I cannot see the light, but instead, inverted 

actions of shirt buttons and 

hair wax. 

Rubbing between your fingers 

before you 

wipe it all onto my 

mental state. 


I want you to know, 

I never did a single sided record 

breaker without considerationing you. 


Daisy chaining, 

fading and changing 

into decorated fossils of what we 

once had the chance 

to become. 

A number, a numb hum of a 

Song I used to sing song. 


Be my man. Be my end of the sofa. 

Be my blunt knife. 

Be my deep wound and cut me. 


Words get in the way 

of what I’m trying to say.


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