Comments Posted By smurfstoestar

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down my sides, in every ripping chasm, holding in barbaric gaffs of grievance. afraid and behind besides the stitches burst, the masks yielding and reforming. i don’t want to switch anymore.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 07.19.2019 @ 9:55 am


feigned modes and discerned stages play softly under the moonlit skin, it aches to breathe, and releases into wait, hopeful for the same indelible suspension, tasted and still true under cover of the abyss’ shades, in wafts and traces through the day.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 06.21.2019 @ 9:43 am

feigned modes and discerned stages play softly under the moonlit skin, it aches to breathe, and releases into wait, hopeful for the same indelible suspension, tasted and still true under cover of the abyss’ shades.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 06.21.2019 @ 9:42 am


false self pours exasperated lung liquid back on the culled horses pleading successful wishes with fate for molasses falls that boil limbs like pigeon’s talons, heels, then stubs. Next centuries analogous with trauma common plea. And that might look like the real deal.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 06.01.2019 @ 8:29 pm


i remember in the car, over the pronunciation, bury, b e rry, brr ry, the lightning bear had his flowers ready, and picked them at me, and showed me fragrance. I chuckled at the label and played to aberdeers advocate, my seeds were palmed, stuffed in planters and hidden from even me. amnesia grants no amnesty, and my wandering eyes are shutting.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 05.27.2019 @ 4:07 pm


is it everyone else, looking down and away, at their shoes, lost in transition from an inescapable perpetuation of stimulation. a conspiracy to dredge suffering into the cracks and transform the human cellular structure to plump when crippling. A sour dose of selfless conspiracy.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 05.14.2019 @ 5:33 pm


disembodied, entangled, at the edge of the astral plane; i have my throat, its cords letting loose the disemboweled vomits of my souls tearing, our two spirits separated only by trauma, reluctant to the spell of the universe, inhibiting evolution of ourselves and the natural movement to produce intelligent life through out the universe. we procreated love from garbage, from our trashed mitochondria there sparked life. i love you forever

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 05.11.2019 @ 4:40 pm


i am a trash ghost. enough to bin. an established win for somebody’s nothing. dumpster fire from the wind, a drift and kiss of the way she moves, everything, always.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 03.02.2019 @ 9:06 pm


In the middle of the pan, at the center of the canola, on checkered tile, with patience, the pods pop, and the mustard seeds sweet aroma may take the place of the wretched path that ever consumes, before, through, and after.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 02.22.2019 @ 5:42 am


a fine. nice and fine, and premium. forget it, soon to dust, degrading as soon as its still, before and after. always a dance with creation, with decay

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 02.01.2019 @ 10:06 pm


simple sayings simple thoughts keep the barrier realistic and formidable, and at the same time i can’t find shit. i can’t find any of it. doomed and damned to recycle and dwindle each time. i wear this curse until i find the nerve to sit and shed. over and over again, the barrier, stand down; open yourself retched block.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 12.01.2018 @ 1:01 pm


assertion was a tired assumption; adjustability dragged through time but uncared for and barely tethered to the flesh sack. the first flex is trust, at the impact of finding truth on a word and having it received like a royal tart, the second presence, with the heart bending behind the ear of the neglected half of the head. The flex that stews in the abundant flux is the gateway between these two, the arch that heralds awareness, allowed to swim at will with the passing of chaos that flows beneath, or safely through the same heralded boundary, one for the self.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 11.13.2018 @ 6:05 am


islands of thought. adrift motel sky beacons across the long drive where thought returns to the toils and pangs of the listlessness. the seemingly endless plateaus that mark points of static progress and the wearing imprints of being no further than when the sky turned a most hideous churned coal.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 11.07.2018 @ 1:57 pm


on the tail of exasperated pushes come direct. the etchings of tight tendons let the sonder sink and the image of the old fuckers fester.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 11.02.2018 @ 1:02 pm


I’ve put down the anguish and personal romanticization of the pain and its manifestations, and sit illuminated, again, feeling the push of the polar currents through me, but to feel, slow and steady, a self love lights up like flicking strands of strings, decrepit and loose, but apparently still there. Like you, oneword, thank you for being here. and all of you, for keeping this going, illuminating tiny fractals all around me.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 10.19.2018 @ 6:39 am


I’m not even involved in where the mind fissures. It splinters into realities it desires to see outcomes of. Wants so desperately to be living in. But instead, it offers boundaries and in its stead fucks my current reality and manipulates and hurts the lives of others. And if it offers dissociation, confusion; you are still the perpetrator. Take the decades of torment, the tragedy of not knowing love and stuff the beauty of those who will have to be left behind, that have witnessed too much of the ripe old pain that can not be outrun.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 10.18.2018 @ 4:25 am


hey todd hows that satchel rubbing? Well, it’s chaffing. Seems about right though. Whatnot and such with the chaos and the uncertainty and that Murphy man. It’s there, it exists. I take a sip, and wince at the raw nip.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 08.25.2018 @ 4:47 pm


is it chocolate or something for you, have it fed, your ego, I mean, isn’t it the insatiable part, and what then of the imagination, where does it step to cover perfection, a sense of self to adorn or misuse in the light of opportunity, a drag and a scar; full of deceit with no past, illusion to satisfy the incessant suffering,

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 08.24.2018 @ 7:23 am


Seasoned, but riddled with a crust of deja vu that lingered with the different therapies, the meditations, or ulitmately perhpas just distractions. And the motel beckoned with the same safeties that nightfall brings, like the candid comes out from under the grizzled walks and makes friends with the loose.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 06.22.2018 @ 6:41 am


Two lollipops met in the middle around the same time, drops of human spit and high fructose staggered through bits of sweet mist, while they kissed. Am I still in my own eyes? Does it count if it’s part of the time? Everything counts, of course, on something, until it might be.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 05.18.2018 @ 4:42 am


Works with others to adjust the vocabulary. The jarring bursts of negativity that manifest the consumers view of stank and clounds and pus that covers its objectiveness. Deja vu. A familiar day posting jib stiff fuckery letting the exhales of empty breaths push this vapid bag old typical wood. At least the behaviors could be predictable if the body let in the present and the mind had no objections.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 04.22.2018 @ 12:07 pm


all of the elbows are kissing throwing ash softly across laced and straightened forearms. new thoughts might beckon but the knocks fall on deaf ears. perhaps its own microcosm of that syndrome where no one acts and collectively they internalize the gifts that could lead to free will and movement and something just less crowded. call it a curse.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 04.14.2018 @ 8:57 am


if they have to rebuild the bodies, to reconstitute the minds with those fleeting rockets to grasp on to, they then must have to reconstruct the gut and its temper with experience. and at the protest the comedian festered, it’s all a joke.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 03.09.2018 @ 7:21 am


ouch. it starts in the webs, the cognitive halt bringing etches of spider lines to trace. A history from another mind inside mine. And it feels forced, like at the surface there’s been an overarching support of bridges to hide the dark gooey concentric’s metropolis of delusion and misguidance. The heart aches to speak, but it’s words fall on a deaf vessel.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 03.01.2018 @ 5:59 am


25 lighters on my dresser. 35 roaches peaking out from the desk left by the other tenant. Nose hairs burned out. Pull the film off the liner. Keep moving.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 02.09.2018 @ 7:30 am


ghosts of the same dread that excite the shingles, on your roof, that lay dormant, that fill you with dread, and pause. the same draped feelings that stifle love in your heart, that bring new bars to your reality and give breath to the demons they once embodied.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 02.03.2018 @ 11:17 am


who will arrise each morn. ye is nominated to assume the body of one teejus ween schiza. It is they that will react and deflect the natural world as they know it, and it is they who have control over the helm of delusion and its cohort.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 01.31.2018 @ 6:21 pm


inside and away, up in the clouds, it feels everything twice over, three times, contained for him. the external so numb, sucked of its sensitivity. then the perception falters, and the ratio sustains and the outside bleeds some sensitive notion back into touch, and free space opens up in the mind, room where emotion occupied and denied access; confusion remaining, still.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 01.25.2018 @ 5:58 am


a constant push. down and up. reveal the subconscious. inhale the breath. ignite the brain cells. feel the epidermal layer flex and exhaust; find it on a portion and adjust just for the final stroke of distance. an inclusive intrinsic hip toss from the heart, the self, the brain, and what we both/all deserve.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 01.01.2018 @ 11:15 am


she lights me up, standing in a pool, watching the flicked flame rotate over its back and piss its parabolic path unto my soaked feet. I wretch in the past and fear the moments before impact, frozen in my own time, stuck on some perpetual loop of a thought, never engulfed, but feeling the paralyzing spell of a moment suspended. Drink the gasoline, I ignite, this is what you seek.

» Posted By smurfstoestar On 12.29.2017 @ 5:34 am

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