Santa’s stuck/you say? In the chimney of course./The lard-arsed ol’bastard struggling

The last time Cyrus rode in a train’s passenger car, he came home a dead man.

So few dreams are the doors they seem.

Their faces covered in shadow, smiles so relaxing, a tall woman approached her, gently rubbing her face. Her lips moved with no sound, but Sora subconsciously understood what she said.

I remember having a beer once And feeling like a minor god And I know in some lie you told Your life began making sense And I also know that the mind likes logic But the heart loves chaos I just hope flies land on the butter of your soul

I'm subconsciously a sucker for guys who are no good for my self-esteem. Or waistline.

I took a lover on Ibiza either because he was clean-smelling or because he had a hotel room and there were none to be had.

facts are facets are / things in the act // the truth speaks softly // as time saying amber / to the enduring sap // words come and go / like leaves like men // we the tree remain ...

the sound of ashes/ being poured in the kitchen

He keeps saying it, babbles the term like he knows what it means and we wince and interject with mama, mama, mama,

I said, “That bird is hungry.” The sparrow was eying both of us At our separate outside café tables As it hopped around looking for crumbs. Then it would look up at us Expectantly.

white-gray mounds persist

As they lay in the pasture on a warm summer's afternoon, with the sky blue, the sun shining, he looked across at her, peacefully asleep by his side. How he loved her. Their year together had been one of joy and happiness.He idly nibbled on a blade of grass, remembering the…

Warning: Open and read before making any dumb-ass New Year's resolutions.

I must have been six years old at that time, but the events of…