by Amanda M. Jansson
and it dripped in my head. and i almost forgot my dreams to a night without stars. that story. weird bird. cards. and rum. my painting shirt. your old bad dreams. i put my hand on my mouth and stich it up. i can not dance. like a thin spider web. on the other side of the water. they are busy being dead. drink to a dark morning. with daisies for eyes. inspired by frenzy. as the hollow moon. black. birds migrate. i let them bite me for hours. now a broken dark twig. and i stop wounded by the wandering scent. i was never made. a high window looking nowhere. the yellow moon. or else the floor.
water is taught by thirst. in profoundly empty solitude.
contact me: amandamorganjansson@yahoo.co.uk
http://suicide-candy.blogspot.com
http://www.flickr.com/photos/with_amanda_j/
http://www.facebook.com/amanda.m.jansson
[everything is copyrighted.]
.
and it dripped in my head. and i almost forgot my dreams to a night without stars. that story. weird bird. cards. and rum. my painting shirt. your old bad dreams. i put my hand on my mouth and stich it up. i can not dance. like a thin spider web. on the other side of the water. they are busy being dead. drink to a dark morning. with daisies for eyes. inspired by frenzy. as the hollow moon. black. birds migrate. i let them bite me for hours. now a broken dark twig. and i stop wounded by the wandering scent. i was never made. a high window looking nowhere. the yellow moon. or else the floor.
water is taught by thirst. in profoundly empty solitude.
contact me: amandamorganjansson@yahoo.co.uk
http://suicide-candy.blogspot.com
http://www.flickr.com/photos/with_amanda_j/
http://www.facebook.com/amanda.m.jansson
[everything is copyrighted.]
.
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