February 2012
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I am a forest and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my...
– Nietzsche (via thegardennymph)
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It’s dark.
You exhale a fist of memory.
I love you like weathering wood
in a...
– (via proustitute)
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Monday 8:21AM, February 6th, 2012
The forest slowly collects dust
on it’s floors, in it’s teeth
and on it’s eyes
In a flurry of indecision it knows not where to
e x pand to
and starts creaking under it’s own weight.
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Afterglow
Closer pieces of furniture
Smell like burlap
all in a smokey room
filled with dreams
and cold tile
uncomfortable moon chairs give
no support
Let us lament on the recovery of the night..
Oh- sweet night
what a teasing and pleasing
whore. Her virginity stolen by day
the break of dawn comes close.
Can
you feel it?
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sweet wood. old dumb bitch. I can see how long...
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MIDNIGHTTTT.
noooooooooooooooooo
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