Dribble drabbles and sketchy mcsketches

Buzzing bees are in my skull
filing in and fluttering
against my thoughts
and mumbling towards my eyes
my nose
my tongue.

Zipping throw veins and nerves
like a leaf tumbling through the sea
and they settle
lightly
against my skin and shuffle
along pores and hair follicles
until all of me is alive and
buzzing.

Buzzing loudly and made
of the sunniest daisies
and the space between stars and
supernovas
beyond the gassy turbulence
and circling the rims of black holes.

Lost in meteor showers
and too close to wish upon them.

10/24/12, 2:48am

(Source: effitsfranki)

Ghosts and dust were lingering
but not holding any sensation;
while the physicality shrank
and burst
and lessened again.

Until the bones felt more like home
than my very flesh draped over
a country house
or a city apartment.

And breathing was tangible
enough to choke on
and drown
drown
drown.

FN 7/31/12, 2:46am

It hurt in a deep grinding way;
like the smallest of teeth were upon each other
unable to welcome release until
the other side had broken
and the little pebbles fell
onto pink like snow.

Ripping noises and regurgitation,
and the strongest of needs to be nothing
to be needed by no one;
to be simple desire;
not important but used.

Used
and mangled and bruised
and torn and scarred
and to end each night
in the arms of smooth, pale squares
like a piece of dust finding it’s home
in the corner of a closet
in an empty house.

7/31/12, 3:08am

Being drunk had a certain taste to it, a certain heavy texture that hung in my chest like a pendulum. With each breath, it seemingly worked its way through my esophagus and settled contently in my taste buds. I can’t really describe it; it was a distinct taste that held itself prominent through any kind of drunk. It shoved past shots of cheap tequila and glasses of screwdrivers; showed dominance above the bottles of beer and glasses of wine. No matter the vessel, it was housed somewhere in the cabin; under each bed, between each board. It was so specific and yet so impossible to compare. Maybe close to the white part in lettuce or the aftertaste of old water; something heavy but subtle.

6/26/12, 1:31am