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fear of this
being our last tralala la lah

the madman’s finger twitches
already restless
shadowing the button

i’m trying to enfold all those I love
into the binary slipstream but

my heart is racing

the rats & dreamers have nowhere to go

&why are we not angrier?
why are we not

my heart is slowing

identifying masks

pushing away almost everyone I care for

or letting them be impaled upon the spines

trapping all the dreams inside with my hands around their swallow throats
suffocating tight


also forms of security through obscurity


Christmas crowds converging in a sea of careless whispers

no wonder I’m going mad

a dance like everyone is watching

too many embroidered words torn from the tapestry and stitched over till no sense is left to be made of a meaning and dave gahan tells me I should enjoy the silence —

these are the ways I communicate these days

concertina revelations and unstable magnetism —

these are the ways I protect myself

and even as the world crumbles beneath the blackhole mass of human madness

i don’t ever tell you I’m afraid; and yet the whole time

i can’t stop thinking about time like it’s a spiral and

i can’t stop seeing it all snatched away and

i can’t stop making these dreams and actually

i haven’t stopped thinking about san junipero

torn between a trust in tomorrow

and no tomorrow


found my feelings
locked in a box
believe it if you dare
the key was a handful of j-rock songs

thanks, sister fox