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petrichor  –  archive
  • Burying Hatchets Boredeuaiox-Style.

    September 19th, 2024

    I moved the ottoman back.
    [from last night mentioned.]
    It didn’t look right there.
    [plus, Ozzie likes to sit there..that’s his spot.]
    Just closer to the chair I turn into
    Mobile phone working.
    Not to watch TV like I thought
    And the l-bar side-space of my
    Antebellum desk
    Is where I watch TV and if I keep it on
    While I’m at my desk it’s background noise
    And if I keep it on while I sleep
    It’s
    For
    Someone Else.

    I like to listen to music with lights while I sleep.
    Reminds me of when I was blackout blind.
    And loud music
    Has always been for deaf people.
    I don’t talk to anybody and no one talks to me and I feel bad after saying
    What was that?
    3xtimes.
    Like tombs.

    Bury it away.
    The ottoman didn’t make sense not by the wall.
    Catching my ankles, I may fall.
    And my testament to “permanency” in
    Favorite Canvas Bracelet.
    Black & Gold, for heritage and slipcordknot.
    [fell off instead.]
    Double banded.
    Like my rings for work, not for marriage.
    It isn’t the superb bowl, it’s the…
    Whatever agency I’m supporting.
    Woof Woof.
    And I’m not the only one to see this shit through.
    40 + years of trying with you.

    Fuck off another morning for a wedding.
    I already wrote about it and it embarrassed me in permanency of whatever tf I wrote.
    Better than Top 40 BreakUp Hit Album
    That I also wrote.

    Your new bride is embarrassing.
    Black Celebrations
    overt-a-c-notch
    white weddings.

    Woof, I’d be the only one there not white.
    Adopted, with no family except when I look to the sky’s demise of stardust.
    Textile hues in scent.
    I’ll catch em.
    [like the river of ashley.
    and.
    marsh of prose.]

    No wonder I never married you
    And married
    Your great-grandfather.
    He’s much kinder on these types of times even for minor death
    A couple times less than 6 hours
    And a fault line to help out
    [a shoulder to cry on.]
    [escape to a-.]
    A city
    That represents well
    And everyone just wants to be assholes about it.
    [go to hell.
    do something that deems you guilty.]
    {I
    Just got
    Back.
    What have you done for the war-efforre besides celebri-taunth-says?}
    (Oh, no muse?)

    It’s not about looks.
    You were lucky I was blind when I met you.
    Don’t go to Temple,
    Unless you want to get your feelings hurt.

    I always dreamed of a Courthouse Wedding and that’s what I had.
    Go into debt over your fancies;
    That plastic surgery bill is ticking botched.

    And my waist says han-snaouahtched.
    Cancerous, I am indeed.
    Shun me, please.
    I need some space
    From you
    And the bullshit you birth into this world.

    Pick a Side.
    I already did!

    Hasn’t changed much.
    [tick tock tick
    that’s the sound
    of your approval ratings
    dropping-within-your-community.]
    [I represent well, for those who share my same blues.]

    Well Dressed.
    At that.

    Seen your ways, unsavory for sames
    And sugar is avoidant
    I’ve got diabetes and sweet on me
    Ain’t cute.
    It ain’t even cheesy.
    Shit out the corn kernel you spews for fucking dialogue and watch em’ pop.
    Everyone else holds their legacy.
    And your science has been
    Deemed
    Obsolete; by-my-work.

    How does it feel to not be canonical?
    100 years and I’ll shoot you down in my sins and shuns
    For my own forgiveness.
    Mose, on-proxy again.

    Oxygen never felt so good to write this.
    Bullshit me, again.
    New Cabinets!?!?!?!
    Fuck your way to the top, dangling gigolo of jello tape work.

    Pathetic, I am.
    What the hell could you be when no one sniffs brandy + cigars.
    [anymore.?
    to even redeem a bit of class.
    and breathlessness
    at something
    sporting.]

    Moisten the Palmas
    Dean got me.

    You sold out for White Light.

    It’s
    Still
    Marigold turned on.

    Those Flowers
    Know How
    To
    Clean Up.

    Zinnias are just pretty.
    And Toxic to Topsoil.

    Top-Knotched.
    Hm.
    You act like everyone took your side bc you kiss their ass.
    Work-People don’t talk to you for many reasons.
    And good-reason was abolished after greed
    Was cirmounted as your only
    Honesty to your Ways.

    Sin with me, Angel.
    Oh my,
    Even the Red Nucleus is the Dark Star.

    It’s Purple in Yellow Light and
    Red in White
    And Marigold in Pink.

    Of all the people I hang out in my blindness, I write about many.
    Love; romantic, platonic, sexual.
    [The Self! Love the Self •t•r•u•l•e•y•• comes last!]
    As old as I am and menopause has taken back to divvy to fertilized donation eggs.
    And work is bullshit and the news tells me nothing.
    What’s new?
    Ya did good, terrible, booed.

    Happens to the worst of us,
    The Professionals.
    Tired of canonizing in worth
    On
    Your
    Family.

    Exes + O nos.

    I still lead.
    Italians are Matriarchal.
    Sicilians married in.
    Irish to Italian and they’ve been Sicilian ever since.
    Even the Sardines we left bc they didn’t want to work.
    Welfare Island, get off the trip
    Old Man.

    You know how to cut stone.
    It wasn’t love.
    You became popular.
    My condolences.
    [You didn’t have to move locrates, but I can’t take it back for ya.]
    {I wish I was around I could’ve.
    Been there.
    Even for
    Female.}

    I know what it’s like to be wanted with no wants.
    Just my personal goals.

    I like seeing that in other men.
    Oh dear, new ideas and studies still
    With all your brother, cousin, nephew, father, and elders and so on.
    We’re still of Use.

    Make them lie to me or threaten
    For not
    Joining your brigade.
    Brigadiers don’t settle unless
    It’s Minimum-Battalion.

    If you choose to make
    This Love
    [for myself, after all this time and old wonky age earned.]
    A War.
    Don’t come to the C-side Commandieran
    To do it.
    Strategy.
    And I make Celebrity Chess Competitors.

    Look fucking stupid.
    Beat the Computer.
    I am the CTRL
    In this study.

    Learn.
    Why dontcha?
    [I never want to sound harsh, but I, when I see your abstract cruelty and obsession.
    There is no love.
    Soulmate written in the Stars.
    And I uh- for all my zodiac astrology work, study, and astrophysics side of stardust-understanding.
    Don’t believe it’s necessary.

    Twin Flames and I got Two.
    One’s basically Roman
    And the Other.
    My Pond Rock-Skipper for Always23s.
    I’m pretty happy with them.

    Blames + AlL.

    I couldn’t account for my lacking, but my accountability and forgiveness to see the other side of anyone else that could care about me. Learned late in life, we’re kin stuff.

    Everyone knew how I was.
    Say they imagined my voice like that for years.
    “I’ve heard about you.”
    ‘i hope not good things.’

    I tried to keep those sacred.
    And now they’re vacated.

    Can’t change your behavior, but your morals are strong.

    Quean pwaiadnan ain contigo?
    No mancwch sigectewe.
    I guess that’s all I feel about it.

    Every time I try with You, You, You
    Again.

    I shouldn’t have ever bought that book.
    S.o.S 2024.
    I don’t want reunions every week anymore.
    I make the bed, everyday.
    Even if it just needs a tidy.
    Like Janis.
    She was a very young girl with all that fame.
    And I killed it well.]

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