One of the most beautiful places, in my opinion.
Sterile, hospital-esque, everyone coming and going in no-man's land.
No blood on this man's hands (albeit, if there is, it's well hidden!).
Everyone with their shirts ironed and shoes polished, skeletons left at home.
Security would surely something to say about that!

The sky's the limit according to these verified cathedral ceilings.
Fly with us! We'll take you there. A drink? Five?
Of course, my friend and/or valued customer, whichever you prefer - no need to be afraid to get high!

A place where I'm just a guy and he's just a guy and everybody's just a guy and, hell, all we gotta do is drink a glass of wine and not even think about drugs or weapons or sunscreens larger than 150ml because they have sensors for that, right? No feelings here, ya dig??? It's fun, it's free, it's like you're walking around a giant blow-up antidepressant, no prescription necessary!

cotton oranges & almonds

ok so here’s a poem about living in LA
about wanting to run away
about feeling fucking worthless every fucking day
of the past week and whatever the fuck else there is to say
about that.

feelings familiar but not so much recently so it’s like
jumping into ice water and just letting your body
remember, right now, what it was like to feel like a lump of clay?

the sadness is more just numbness nowadays
underneath a big ass chemical blanket, I think,
the sadness will always be what’s gone, what’s lost or even more
the unattainable / what i’ve never had/will have
a white bungalow on a sunny street
christmas with palm trees
a dog and maybe someone who
would talk to me

i go to concerts alone
i dream of you on sundays
we drive through the desert sometimes and then we don’t speak
cos we don’t need to and
I’m happy
and other times
you tell me you’re coming back and that
it was at least sort of real

can’t eat much these days
been bleeding a lot in strange ways
take a different way home every day of the week
try n snap me out of my fear of being incomplete

quit coffee and weed for three days now - three!
the former in an attempt to fix my body
the latter im not sure why other than
I don’t ever wanna rely

started to hate my bedroom again
started to hate the way all my clothes are falling apart
not as cute anymore
when you’re feeling real poor

stopped checking my bank account so much I guess
city living has really started hitting
tiny black flies all over my ceiling
and a damp smell in the bathroom that never quite goes away
and how the slant of the house pulls us ever so slightly towards the water

yea I feel like human shit when strangers don’t answer me
but yea I build the paradox and let my messages pile and gray
I wanna be alone every single day
I want the solitude to eat my skin away

I want to burn it all down
in a metaphorical way
which I guess I’ve shaped as running away
but now the pressure of choice
and being true to myself
is making this thought a tick in my brain

I want the world to fuck me up so I don’t have an excuse for this shit anymore
I want a reason to feel worthy cause right now there ain’t none
I wanna get all this shit out of my body so I can know who’s the real one
I don’t wanna play anymore cause this game isn’t fun

I wanna run in the dark and never come back
visit the 47th subterranean floor
where the code to rebirth was cracked
I promise
it happened
just like I imagined.

how much longer will i lie awake doing nothing and thinking of one million things at least it’s kinder to beat my skull against a pillow and drown myself in the sheets

I Am



I am the wind
Transient and powerful
I am a river
I do not stop for anyone
I am a tree
I stand tall and touch the sky
I am a rock
Stable and unwavering
I am the Earth
Made of it and making it


She was the Earth
Made of it and making it
She was the wind
Running wild and running free
She was a rock
Only broken by the sea
She was a tree
Forming all the air I breathe
She was a river
She did not stop for me.



- another poem I wrote a few years ago.