notes

i must tell you that when the printer is throbbing in synch
while my pulse thumps to the beat of the bird's cries
i can't help but think that we are a web linked by sounds,
feelings, and tastes
slowly tearing away.

memories just never leave,

they are stuck just beneath the surface,

they stick with you and leave prints on your skin,

they fill your ribs and replace your breath,

they empty you while seeming to fill you,

you cling to them, to prevent yourself from drowning,

  they                     destroy

    you.

they told me that death was not fathomable by humans.

literally: that imagining yourself still and silent

and unmoving for too long could turn you into a messy

excuse of a human.

i guess that's why i like thinking about infinity 

when my life is only held together by a few strings (ripped at the seams).