memory

“According to a recent study, just as you can’t step in the same river twice, your memories are changed by the act of recalling them, meaning that every memory we have is colored by the times we’ve recollected it before… recalling a memory more often makes that memory less accurate, and that every time you take…

worn out words | poem

thoughts travel without passports or permission; love cannot be contained in the human body, so it now grows in the oak trunk of an endless tree. time threads us together in loose, haphazard seams; dreams contain all my greatest fears and fantasies, so now I plant them in the mulch beneath tall grasses to grow…

Why’d They Make Me | Song

Why’d they make me read such sad shit as a kid I’m glad that they did Otherwise the world wouldn’t look right And my words wouldn’t be right And I’d never find the will to write All of it down There wouldn’t be a reason There wouldn’t be a reason There wouldn’t be a reason…

God Man | Poem

Bringer of agony Classifier of the planets Giver of purpose Master of morals Decider of life Final word’s whispered at time’s end ~ Sammicakes

longpast lies | poem

Every time I come back here I notice all the little ways I changed And despite the differences I realized I’m ultimately the same ~Sammicakes

nightmares blend into dream

(Of what had been shattered some years ago due to its horror and what had been forgotten that night amidst the field of other dreams had been the phantom of a cruel mind’s subconscious which had never left it since the day it was shattered upon its horrible impact. That gray cornered room below where…

A Kiss From Within

Take up my hands in my hands Take in my eyes with my eyes See my form from my form See light within from my light within Sense beauty from beauty Sense radiance, confidence from confidence, radiance Idyllic Her with my potential Her gentle smile granted by the stars Her caring eyes bestowed upon by…

Of Ocean, Of Lingering Touch

Long past hum of amethyst waves Low and rhythmic in midnight’s stupor Still buzzing, singing, within the space between ears Linger like its ceaseless touch Against oblivious skin and undressed frame In the dark solitude of sweet velvet night That does not hold home, that does not hold back its yawn With head resting, body…

fun.

alone on a Friday night, not mad at anyone but yourself, but because it’s so much inside you it makes you hate everything outside you, everything you see. it’s your fault, and you’re surprised that everything you do to make yourself unhappy has finally worked. it’s a small wave. it washes away as it quickly…

no better reason to change | story

doth excerpt; reality and the love for human perception “To speak on perception for a moment, it is actually quite a curious occurrence. Would you like to hear about it? Oh, perfection! I am very sorry to go on so long, but I feel it is partially relevant to your question of the ‘how’ I…