Saturday, May 2, 2026

YOU-NIK

YOU-NIK

The only Eyedea that I cared about died.
Y unsheath the proboscis when we're all empty inside.
Our will to survive is maladaptive and snide.
So I don't mind that in 22 years I will die.
at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

ol' bobby stalwart

These days I get high on sitting with pain. Sitting with fear, sitting with shame. Shitting the same: not all that great. To do a good deed,...

  • Musings from the fiery diary of Donna Pinchy-Hottie
     Starb ö ö ks just isn't the same anymore. I mean, I still like working here, and I'm REALLY digging the opaque, rounded-corner-rect...
  • unvitaled
    Mirroring death, weary as hell, I climb back onto my razor's edge.
  • The Rack
    I am: dismembered clumps of psychic unselfhood spread thin on this flat torture bed of conscience. Conscience is necessary but mine has gone...