you ignited famine, unintentional or not.  We’re starving.  That masochistic flair you dearly love to wear finds us indebted.  We are caught somewhere betwixt hope…..resignation.  whose crucifixion is fair  I DON”T CARE  meek resolution and dirty dish water hands.  Your labia doesn’t speak anymore.  I may have Tourette’s of the soul.  There was a dream where my chest was fire and I was choking as something was crawling up the back of my throat.  I vomited a cancerous snake, dying.  It had two heads and our eyes.  I cannot for the life of me understand what it meant. My otherface, … Continue reading Hope, resignation