Calico Owl Art

The ghost of my brain tells me to walk out of class and into the woods, I do as it says, I find myself lost in the wilderness and starving but I smile as I drift into the grasses and feel the wasp bite my neck, an ant crawls over my cheek and explores my tongue, I take off my jeans and my shirt and my socks, and I lie there complete, letting the sun eat me like an apple among the limp grass, I am the apple eaten by its loving worm, perhaps when I am ruined and down to the core, I may blossom in another season, and sun she will kiss me and the moon call me darling, and I may die, again and again, and remain as I am, bark and the remains of teeth eating at the dreams of a girl, sitting in her English class taking notes to breath 

“I’m really starting to loathe you”

Because I didn’t have any money, I took pictures. Many more pictures than I would have taken had I ever had any money. So I only was ever able to steal an impression of what I loved and what I saw. Sometimes I hate them, because they have distorted the appearance of something once beautiful and instead have become forever something that will have passed me by. And sometimes I love them and I prefer them, and perhaps it is more beautiful in memory than it truly was at the time. Would I ever think about them like I do now, were they growing dusty on the shelves around me, watching me pass them by?

the all encompassing agony of wanting nothing nothing at all