Thoughts, essays, research and fun from a research librarian. Silver grey, shiny and cold is what I see, as I look out over my new world, shivering winters soothing spree.

The flower of my life. The all new Bird- Dog! .

There is no greater truth than love. I picked a flower like your heart. Yes, the forest is the madness. Of the hemorrhaging lotus of filthy. Upon the stairs to the stars. And the five pink heads of. African girls have come back. From Paris, sitting at the table. Of poker with burning bushes. Of uprooted leaves swinish;. Like a bee facing tunnel death. All i see is all i say.

Where words go to die. To be disgusted by society. Everyone looking for an instant fix. That will fuck for fun. Yet I want more than this. Sure men are the same. Looking for the next place. I want more than simple skin. I watch them use the words. That they do not understand. And fuck me for being who I am. The wind is blowing through the graves.

Its you I look for. Ripples on the calm surface. I think I miss you. No one knows I caught a glimpse. Of your face in mine. Posted from WordPress for Android. So aggressively my soul shook along. I am what I always was. A speck of dust in the wind. People will never remember more than my name.

I like the thrill of every shot of vodka,. I drain from the bottle. Sometimes i feel it leaves scars. As I drop the glass;. It pushes some button in my brain. They click so hard, my head spins. But the thrill makes you go back for shots after shots,. Until it is completely drain. She lay on his bed.