Brain fog
Fog brain
Brain frog
Frog brain
Bog Frog
Brain Bog
Bogged down
Like the bog bodies --
“Remarkably intact, yet oddly disorienting” - Roy van Beek
Almost human, but slightly 
Disconnected
	Discoloured
		Disingenuous
Remains remaining in limbo, under the sun, but under something deeper
Layers of peat just sinking and seeping and reaping
And sowing
a grave dug by the weight of human indecency
it was me it was me it was me
And this is all things for which i am responsible 
No thoughts worth vocalizing
I’m deep in the pit and the world is over anyways

Let the frogs have me
Let me be useful in some way
Let me do no harm
Let me achieve nothing

The more I think the lower i sink and i know now i am talking to the dead

little bubbles leaving my lips, sliding up through the sludge slime 
struggling to breach the surface
they make no sound at all

It’s quiet here
peaceful even




its nice to be with someone instead of being for someone
i used to not know the difference
or... wrapped the two up so tight i couldn't breath or think anyways
thats how he liked me
i could fit all of me inside of the pretty packaging
it didn't matter if most of me was folding in on itself 
they didn't need to know that as long as i was pretty
that was loving
if i could keep holding on, they would know how much i cared
if i could fit tighter and tighter, they would know that i was worth it
i gave my breath willingly as it was forced out of my lungs and taken by a pair of greedy fists 
let them wrap tight around my throat
falling back into the box as tv static vision blurred into
unconscious
and that is the hardest part
i gave willingly
id like to write about the being with someone now
but not yet 
and not today
the gentleness is still unfolding
and me along with it




I can hear your laugh as we would have turned our paintings around

Yours would be a mockery made by sloppy hands and instability

I would take mine too seriously so that you would know that you are seen 

A gentle intensity in an act of light-hearted intimacy

You'd paint a truer picture of me than I ever could

Yours is truth

But a photograph couldn't show the you underneath

Laughter doesn't harbor reality and your distance brings clarity.

I want to paint you, but I don't want anyone to see




i want to sit inside and watch the snow
Fallen 
Collective
getting lost & being found
the World isn’t ending
it is beginning 
every single day
New
not one is ever the same