Transformed into a sea dragon last night and broke the surface and flew into the air about a hundred feet into the air. My neck was ten feet long, covered in scales. I had a mouth full of daggers. Noxious foam splayed across my cheeks. The sky was smoking and sulfurous. Gun shots were heard and I gave two massive pumps with my wings and my body rippled like a whip. My tail snapped and my head arched down and down I went back into the abyss. Below the water my wings tucked into my sides and I moved like a shark in search of blood.
I drank so much last night the Pope woke up puking.
Today my Pirate Love did not show. Lonely lonely.
Feeling lonely is a deficiency of the Self.
But being alone is a gift. It is the one that Lily has sent me in an empty brown gift box tied with a string.
My pirate love, did she ever exist?
Im surrounded by shit heads. In a cafe. If she were here shed pull out her cutlas and settle this once and for all: send them back to their toilets. I am too wounded. The solitude has removed my voice. My voice box. The little velvet box with a ring that is hidden in the freezer with the peas and a leg of turkey from last years dinner.
The dream last night took me hard. This morning there was blood on my pillow.
The white noise and babble has faded into the cold outside. Finally silence.
Old man Mcgurdys candy shop next door. Penny candy and dreams. Dusty roads and crows. I miss Portland, Oregon. I am a lost bird. I sail the sky for my Pirate love. With no ship to be seen, no place to land and the waters boil n bubble here and there. And I know whats below. That Sea-dragon swimming in my brain. Drinks the love from my veins. I must go for a walk.
I drank so much last night the Pope woke up puking.
Today my Pirate Love did not show. Lonely lonely.
Feeling lonely is a deficiency of the Self.
But being alone is a gift. It is the one that Lily has sent me in an empty brown gift box tied with a string.
My pirate love, did she ever exist?
Im surrounded by shit heads. In a cafe. If she were here shed pull out her cutlas and settle this once and for all: send them back to their toilets. I am too wounded. The solitude has removed my voice. My voice box. The little velvet box with a ring that is hidden in the freezer with the peas and a leg of turkey from last years dinner.
The dream last night took me hard. This morning there was blood on my pillow.
The white noise and babble has faded into the cold outside. Finally silence.
Old man Mcgurdys candy shop next door. Penny candy and dreams. Dusty roads and crows. I miss Portland, Oregon. I am a lost bird. I sail the sky for my Pirate love. With no ship to be seen, no place to land and the waters boil n bubble here and there. And I know whats below. That Sea-dragon swimming in my brain. Drinks the love from my veins. I must go for a walk.
I was flying about last night too, exept I wasn't a dragon so I'm not sure why I could fly...and my best freind was throwing coins at me with ill intent. They shot at me too but mainly they just threw pound coins at me. And they had been interviewing a severed head. None of these things do they do in real life.
I like pirates.