heavy, heavy animalastic instincts, primal urges and even some carnage, if you want it. one million ghostly coincidences and scrubbing at things until they disappear and nothing is left but all the chaos you could ever imagine. my ears are ringing. i drew a deer on the skin on my thigh with a marker last night when i was drunk.  i found older and likely much drunker rambling writings in a composition notebook and i started back dreaming until my body felt funny and my head was drawing pictures to color myself into. the deer was smudging on my thigh and and my knees were cold and there was someone with my hands dialing phone numbers of exes i  somehow still had memorized. shit, no. not that last part, i embellished, i'm just running to the thought of you. only i did call, really. i called him. he was in his bed and i was in the middle of a dark road surrounded by white-out snow forests wearing sweatpants and no coat or hat. my ears were two stones in the snow and my cheeks and nose were beds for things flying around in the cold air. he called me girl-face and i called him a god damn bastard and that was that. it was the best i could do.


rollerfink said...

your ex-boyfriend sounds nice

Kerry Giangrande said...

the word "nice" is physically painful to me.