n/a

Fall is coming soon.

I'd say I excited if I weren't so worried and pessimistic about things. I can already feel hints at seasonal depression and it's not even October yet. I get the feeling it's going to be a short fall and long winter.

I need to leave.

Everyone hates where they're from. I can't say I've met a single person who's completely content with where they live. It's a constant cycle of trying to find a balance between escapism and contentment. This is a game that I no longer want to play. I want to create my own roots and beauty elsewhere.

I need to leave as soon as possible.

tell me

"tell me"

sunlight

exhumes broken glass in the sand. young

men race across it on a brother's

dare. an invincible

smirk painted across each of their faces. cuts

and bruises were stories. they hung their

heads under a silver moon at the

edge of the boardwalk.

burns harbor, indiana

"burns harbor, indiana"

place the weight on cardinal's wings and
watch it shudder beneath the burden. the morning
light catches on the figure of

two boys hunched over a crimson corpse. when

they sleep the sinking feeling lays heavy in their
stomachs. boys wake up and breathe, their minds

bleed out the pain of beauty collapsed.

day-trotter

"day-trotter"

God waited in the pasture as

thunderheads painted

the spectrum of grey.

he knelt as the downpour washed his body of

inevitable guilt. creation

had plunged a dagger into his spine. man's

deliverance died weeping in a

hushed voice.

days and heart's desire

"days and heart's desire"

in meadows there were children laying on

flowers. insects crawled on their legs and

faces to accent the freckles and

the scars.

radiant boys don't remain silent. they live together

and die alone.

between breaths the insects sing

and crescendo in sync with the hymns of the girls.

it was a

midwestern symphony.

n/a

"The worst part is knowing that there is goodness in people. Mostly it stays deep down and buried. Maybe we don't have God because we're scared of the bad stuff. Maybe we're really scared of the good stuff. Because if there's no God, well, that means it's inside of us and we could be good all the time if we wanted. So when we do bad things, it'd be because we want to or because we have to. Or maybe we just need the bad stuff to remind us what the good stuff is in the first place. "

Constant reminders that things can always become better. Keeping my head up.

volumes

"volumes"

pearly white teeth smile up at me from

piles of rotting leaves. there are copper eyes that i

cannot stare into. this was a

secret pact.

written in the dirt and mud of September

on the walls of October and November.