Chibipon

Would you care for a bite?

we all have the same resounding problem life. in one way or another some of us have certain ways of dealing with it bleeding hunger sleeping singing bloody fists or tattered lips or coal coated paper or mud splattered jeans, sidewalk skinned knees or seedy hotel rooms, we are infinitely human. we are imperfect. we are beautiful. we are complete trash. we are all in the same sea, drowning with the same weight at our throats the same panic swelling in our chest.

You're just ashes coated in honey.

mom and dad, i'm honestly lucky to have you. and not lucky, as in 'oh well these are my parents, i guess it's good i get fed'. No, i'm more than lucky. i wouldn't even be on this continent if it weren't for you, or maybe not even alive anymore. i'm kind of jealous of those kids that can point to their family and say that they're blood, and nothing is thicker than blood. but, i like it better this way. you're my parents, even though we're not related. dear c, You're stupid. but i think i love you anyways. you screwed so many things up, hurt me so many times... but we're siblings. and siblings forgive eachother, right?

dear h, i love you. and as much as i know you won't believe me, i think you're absolutely gorgeous. rollerskates suit you. sunshine suits you. flowers do as well. i remember days where we would do alot of nothing, nights that we would vow to sleep and talk instead. evenings watching horror movies about dolls and children and unlucky stupid people. you give me some of the best memories. i'm thankful for that. ps. You do get on my nerves sometimes... But let's just blame it on pms. dear m, frankly, i didn't see this coming. i was a frog in cold water, and my fondness of you grew and grew, until it was too late and i was in it for good, do

I hung memories like wet clothes on lines made of childrens nightmares. Dreaming and colliding, nothing is beautiful in the dark. Blinded by sunlight, we reach, we reach, no we can't reach. Dismembered thoughts and lost hopes and happy endings scattered on the ground like leaves on the forest floor. They taught us things, not useful things, but things. Things. Things behind the door of life and beneath the trapdoor. Muddy, red, like fall. Green, like eyes staring back at you. Comfort, not found in sleep, not found in humanness, not in personal beauty, not found in ourselves but found out of ourselves. Out of body experiences that make our lun

She was alone in her bed. All was quiet, there was nothing stirring about. The lack of light was overwhelming, almost suffocating. She felt as though a face was directly in front of hers, about to swallow her up. She was far to terrified to scream, or even lift her tiny hand from underneath the covers to grope the empty air. Her pulse was loud, thumping in her ears, making it seem like it was coming from outside her own body. She was too scared to move. Her only friend was Timothy, but even Timothy couldn't help her now. He laid there limply in her death grip, his button eyes cold, lifeless, a smile forever stitched on his mouth, despite th

The old train tracks had always been Alec's favorite place. Alec and I used to spend long hours together there, surrounded by the bright autumn leaves. We'd walk along the train tracks, waiting for the long freight trains. Alec always stood dangerously close to the tracks when a train went roaring by, and I know that all he wanted back then was to dance with the train. -- We used to catch fireflies and put them in mason jars during the summer nights. He'd always let his go right after he caught them, because he said they should be free, even if he couldn't be. I'd look up, watching the fireflies fade away into the night sky. "It looks li