vagabondthoughts

"freedom is a length of rope. god wants you to hang yourself with it." some jackass gave me freedom today instead of giving me happiness, cue me loose from all things holy and gave me this anarchy in my head somebody decided agency was a good idea and love was something human should govern an angel sat on my shoulder for a day and told me about freedom, what it really is he thought he was the new god and things were fine, for a while, until they weren't freedom is a length of rope, yes, or a handful of pills you should swallow, or somebody looking you in the eye and calling you a liar

welcome to my Halloween town you wanna know what scares me? taking things slow, cause my mamma told me once i’m addicted to change i think she’s right

one day i asked him to rewire me and he did and there was a key that opened up my ribcage like some safe like it’s worth protecting what’s in there and he cut open nerve centers and peered inside with his microscope eyes and he fixed me, replaced lines of nerve cells with copper wiring and didn’t realize nerves are made in the synapses, in the spaces between the cells he rewired me and left no spaces in my head and i didn’t feel real anymore

this is a good moment, the kind i can feel like an embrace, the kind that wraps itself around me like a summer breeze, a bit of warmth to change the cold and a bit of daydreaming to change my mind i can’t change my mind anymore but you can so i want you to tell it to me like you’re honest to the core of yourself, like when god made you he taught you kindness even when you’re vulnerable, like he wove sunlight in your soul so you could shine. “do you wanna be something besides this?”

boy with water song inside               1 – boy with water song water underground the sound of it buzzing in the base of my skull i think when this drought ends in rain it will also end in hope because there’s a certain type of pessimism that comes with death               2 – brother links of chain connect like misfiring synapses i whisper sometimes through the gaps in the wall and i wonder if he’s there when it gets too unbearable in the sun sometimes they give me a drink of water but there’s never enough shade anymore               3 the desert stretches out under the water song like a vast body bu

Home is just another word for you the space of your fingers and your ribs and your breath and the way your tongue wraps around words like an embrace a gentle brush of lips against skin and rough exposed raw nerves, misfiring synapses what i really want is to fold myself into your arms and forget everything that ever felt like broken glass forget picking shards out of my palms and cursing myself for my recklessness what i really need is to lie down for a while and think commit every pain to memory so i can stop making the same stupid mistakes

Hello— you didn’t get to tell me your name then because you were pulled away in the crowd. I kept wondering. Hey, my name’s— still no name, you won’t start the year on a bad note. When the teacher starts talking about dendrites you scrawl Hey, sorry, I’m Johnny. At this point we don’t know what will become of us yet, that you will leave and I will try to stop you the only way I know how. I scrawl back. >Rylee. I’ve got theatre next, you? >No, sorry. I’ve got tech mods. What even is that? >No idea. Everything else was full. Oh, that sucks. My synapses are firing madly, my mind aw

In the dream I’m sitting in the meadow on a blanket. I’m looking up at the sky. I’m wearing a comfortable tailored blue dress and I stand, spinning. It’s almost like I’m going to take flight until I stop, realizing suddenly that I am not alone. There’s someone else here. At the edge of the meadow, he’s silhouetted by the sun. It’s setting, and he’s beautiful. I stop and feel a shiver trace its finger down my spine. This moment is suspended in time. This moment is glass. I want this moment to shatter. The world pulses back into motion again. I am lifting off the ground and I feel like there

I think I would like to write myself into the periodic table, slip myself between copper and cadmium, a barely-there perception. This way, when you glance through me I can reinforce myself with the knowledge that I am surrounded by the heart of a supernova time will never end but it will certainly forget me it will never forget the girl who held on between cobalt and manganese and prayed

my favorite thing about water is: it’s never twice the same I will never stand under the same rain twice or feel the same river-water pulling me around or cry the same tears, and to me that is beautiful I have live my life in search of perfect symmetry but, retrospectively, I appreciate asymmetry