A Whale Ate My Soul

Theme by Theme Static

Condensed milk it were

For the beacons I bowed

Curled to the side you.

Replacements, mirrors, echoed

Boxes: hot over hangings in my

Fishhook. I cant stop hurting

I cannot stop

Hurting my little loves.

My protectors.

She rocked me and took my milk.

Infused the dirt I had a muddy muddy

Wishes. The big rock

Hands placed silence in heart and leap I was always always fingers warped or

Wrapped into cloudy chalky bark.

Skin! She knows the cycles I was

Cyclical and unknown.

Little crossed out tiny

Arms of the creatures I knew to be me.

little bones we could crush because you held them through glass i smiled a little guy

! was the laugh

when you move wet
in salt
I sit and let the crease of a chair
engrain themselves upon me.

miles of mountain does much and
nothing at all. 

I saw the color above the bark
for you.

here there is not much to do
but think

it is much easier when I am
not this way.

! the helium feelings in my lung

if I had little bones, we could crush them and I would be a little guy but
I still like jazz and vegetables.

new grandparents.

adobe smack
a tired little nothing
we saw, 
and all the torn and
excused imagery
we saw. 
a place where 
bark merges in one horizontal ribbon
and leaves like quarters
clapping at us.

'oh lost souls'

when u began 2 tell me

My lowest aches. Eyes

Bled from one rim to the

Other. I am so

Afraid. Did you know You

Made me bones little

Blooms the shiny twigs

We were

violet and tired and

Multi twigs warped my

Essence. Lines!

Did you know youlick

At me drips, I am

Still puffed stomach

Layered cotton

Green skirts I smells

A outdoor basketball court.

Ageless sweat.

You are

Haunting the caverns, I search

Milky purple diamonds like

The sea. Salty leaves of

Uncreased soles. 


It was:
They pushed my cheeks
now wide they were also
flat, I was bluffs.
Cracks, nails
split and crevices—we practiced.
It was a petition but
This screaming, or endless
Buzzing felted me to
my Womb.

We will have forgotten
ungrown teeth by then,
each letter now
I say but they hold

Me, still, still more.

The limp of stillborn wishes
the tri muscle is this it?
Can it be if its not.
What would happen.
Flip side up the big curb
silken armpits guided
find the rock—a salt
a salted twisty right
blocked milk, blank; your Womb.
Imagine that, what is

I’m practicing but it’s
each letter now and
the rectangles of paper
found too much and
this molten head
I am filled with numbers.
Good bye undereyes
or what would be tasty
the little speck of flesh wrapping
the Behindparts.
tiny like the splinters,
my rings are stuck
they found me—raped
of Geodes.