I cannot write. Cannot write, cannot write cannotwritecannotwrite. There is nothing to say, it's all been read,saidanddone. I cannot write right: my idealism won't countenance these mongrel awkwardnesses, won't afford them the space, award them the effort, free them for flight -- the gut-dropping, nose-first dive I know it will inevitably be. I cannot write…Read more Today
again and again overwhelmed by tears that do not come heating my face, burning my eyes, stoppering my throat like a cork in a bottle the possible and the real take a back seat to everything that is not the darkness i feel, like my soul evaporating within c. Kate Gough, 17.11.2017
you're \ \ \ so carefully constructed flaunting what you \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ think they want to see \ \ \ a rare yet \ \ \ ordinary concoction of \ exotic and reliable \ likeable, careful, reserved: never known. but when you look in the mirror thousands of…Read more Constructed
i. my ink Grows greenly in the deep blue Sea of (V a s t, this)night, sending roots down deep, tendrils up and out -- a r OUnD in anticipation of the break (ing of soil,) of dawn and s w e e t a i r ---| but for now, Rest. Satisfied in soily…Read more my ink_
woke this morning, lifted salty eyes to a small window frosted with chill. condensed upon the pane: night's dew from my cheeks and shining eyes, transformed. outside, dark-needled giants bow, scrape Earth, weighed down with the weight of my heart; white as snow. somewhere, a cardinal wreaks havoc. c. Mary Kathryn Gough 11/9/05 11.53…Read more conservation of matter / energy
don't feel like turning myself on my head just to look at the world with new eyes. to see it all through glass or crystal, doesn't matter. burning lava or glowing rubies set in silver -- my heart is blank and empty because everything is(n't) good just the way it is(n't) and that's the way…Read more Matter.