Sunday, September 30, 2012




i rewatch videos
we tried to watch,
but got distracted
with each others
bodies.


 i
want to pretend
we are kittens and
roll all over each other.
i want to blow
raspberries on
your belly, and tickle
you like you're the
penguine in that
youtube video.


oh come darling,
its only three days
and i am going to
kiss your lips
and tell you
things you only
hear in your head.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

sift through me
and all my inconstant
behaviors 
and i promise there's 
gold you've planted.

i promise i'll grow 
up soon, i'm only
young, only a rose
bud. i'll get there in
the end.

oh sugar sweet,
you're bright and
light and i use those
two words to describe
you so much, because
even when you're dull
(see: boring) and dark
you're still bright and
light.

you've always been like that too.
and i, for one my dove, 
absolutely adore you.


hi i'm giving this zine i made away.
if you want it drop me an email
and i'll send it to you.

(piupiumaya@gmail.com)
you are infinitely fine, and
i am lying awake all night
missing your limbs. couldn't
you hack one off and courier
it to me? couldn't you place
an eyeball in a post it note
and send it? i just want to
look you in the eye, i'm sick
of looking you up. why 
won't you talk to me? 
you might be infinitely fine
but i'm awake all night.


i don’t understanddddddddddd!
i want you to love me so bad, and we loved each other so much how can that just disappear? i’ll be anything you want me to be, i’d do anything. literally, but i’ve crawled back as far as i can and there’s nothing i can do but wish and that fucking sucks because i want something tangible. i want you in my bed cuddling me and i want you so much and i don’t know how you could not love me after everything and i don’t understand why i still love you after everything and i hate this and i wish i could just get over you like how you’ve gotten over me and i don’t know why i still love you but i do and i don’t know what to do because i can’t make you love me and that sucks so i’m just going to listen to etta james and eat raspberry drops and have a big cry. 








you pray my heart
finds peace, but
darling, i am a
different beast to
anything you have
known. i never find
peace, and i starve
myself by accident.
.
how can you say
what you say, when
the only thing i believe
in is intentions and actions
and your words are just
words unless they're
written for me in verse.

i am a restless soul,
this i thought you knew,
but clearly you don't.
i want to disappear into
the stars, never breathe
or see, or speak again.
just floating forever
alone in the vast black.
totally at peace. nothing
to disturb me.
nothing to accentuate
my loneliness or sadness.
nothing but me in space.

you don't write to me anymore.
no letters or post cards or
candy. you miss me, but
won't see me. even when
i am fleetingly on the
same plane as you,
it's hollow. i'll be fine.
i'll wrap myself up in
your limbs, and forget
my sadness and loneliness,
i'll curl around you, and
slip into sleep, and my dreams
will be filled with nice things,
and us, floating up into space
to circle around the stars,
with nothing accentuate our
loneliness or sadness.
nothing but us in space.















5days from Maya Turei on Vimeo.

C E M E N T T I E S from Maya Turei on Vimeo.


“Sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink
 whiskey, and drive fast on empty streets 
with nothing in mind except falling in love 
and not getting arrested.”




oh man. this is so good. what is life? oh mannnnnn

Friday, September 28, 2012



curve away,
fluxus dreams
and cold bed sheets.
i can't tell
how far i've
pushed it this time.

i know that they
are here, but where
i can't tell.
i've gone blind in
my meandering
and my silence.
(self imposed images
over the bridge).

come and find
me. or let me know
that you're still
here, or if you are not
i can't tell.
i think i have
lost my thread and
my sunsets.

i'm having
fluxus dreams
and i can't tell
how far i've
pushed it this time.



a taking the piss video

i left you in october.
you left me in spring.

we moved through grey waters.
coming close when
the surging hormones
and emotions pushed us
closer, and when we would
come crashing down
from the elation of meeting,
we drove each other to
separate ends of the same
sea.

sometimes i miss your face.

i loved you with a passion
time can erase. the  damage
goes undone. we were
like two drunk kids playing
chicken in their parent's cars.
it was bound to condense.
bound to explode, and implode.
we weren't born to love 
each other, or drive, or
love machines till death. 

maybe you were in the end,
but i never was.


i let down
my twisted hair
and let
you in.

you say not
to worry, but
being bit doesn't
mean you won't
be bitten again.

my matted
knots of dead
strands, are
untangled by
your words, and i
fall alseep.

sleep. the last
place i ever
want to be.

(let me exist in a
place of constant
creation)

i let you in.
now, in my sleepless
state i can hear
your breath through
memories, and i am
very aware you are away.


being bit doesn't
mean you won't
bite again.

my nervous
system feels like
a supernova
without sound.

in the empty
vaccum of space
maybe i could
leave you alone,
but as it stands,

i am getting
my hair in knots.



i fell in love with you.
my slowly returning lilac
daisies, spring up because
i've been sprung by you.
my soft kisses, are yours
by default, without you,
they would have no purpose.
without you i don't have a
purpose. you are here when
i need you most, and give me
space when i need it most
and something about
your face is so kissable
and touchable, and lovely.
your tendencies are sublime
and wonderfully plausible.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

111111111111111111111111111111111111


G R E E N S T A T E S O F B E I N G from Maya Turei on Vimeo.


maya gets bored and makes videos.
see you over the internet soons

Wednesday, September 26, 2012




I Feel Your Pain, Liz Magic Laser,
A Performa Commission, Produced by Performa.

Performance and single-channel video, 6 min excerpted from 80 min, 2011.
LINK TO PERFORMA 11
For Performa 11, Liz Magic Laser presented a new mixed-media performance, I Feel Your Pain, that restages America’s recent political contests as romantic drama. Drawing on a variety of agitprop theater tactics, particularly the Russian Constructivist idea of a “living newspaper,” the performance examines how emotion is used to establish authenticity on America’s political stage. Staged in a movie theater, I Feel Your Pain takes place simultaneously in the midst of the audience and on the cinema’s screen. Eight actors perform a sequence of scenes tracing the progression of a relationship using dialogues adapted from political interviews and press conferences. As the actors perform, selected footage from three cinematographers is projected onto the screen in a continuous live-feed while Laser acts as real time editor to produce a live film. Borrowing elements from historic “living newspaper” productions, the performance features live voice-overs, pantomime fight scenes, and mute commentaries by a clown.
I Feel Your Pain features actors Lynn Berg, Audrey Crabtree, Ray Field, Annie Fox, Kathryn Grody, Rafael Jordan, Liz Micek, and Ryan Shams. The video was made with producer David Guinan and cinematographers Alex Hadjiloukas, Collin Kornfeind and Matthew Nauser of Polemic Media; costume stylist: Felicia Garcia-Rivera; still photographer Yola Monakhov; technical crew: Will Chu, Brandon Polanco, Irwin Seow and Tristan Shepherd. The script includes editorial contributions from Scott Indrisek, Wendy Osserman, Jess Wilcox and Tom Williams.



Tuesday, September 25, 2012




oh man they're so cute like oh man what is life when they're just like so cute mannnnnnnn,



i am a circle
full of bright
light that shines
out from the 
switch you
switched with
yours. oh honey
i keep burning bright
keeping the flames
alive. while you're away
i send myself to
sleep thinking of your
arms and your voice
and your kisses. and
i keep revealing the 
situation in my head.
how could i sleep
without the thought
of you? my past life
seems like shadows 
compared to this
new fangled world
in front of me. everything's
visible and sweet, and i
can still taste your kisses
i can still taste them, sitting
on the edges of my lips 
like stardust. you turn
my sky into pastel
clouds of fairyfloss.

i'm so in love, i've given up being sad


oh whoa the clash whoa
my heart is a rocket
for you, passing
through the atmosphere
to land on a shore of
infinite and complex beauty.

my love is cool breeze to
chill you out when it's too
hot to think, and a warm
breeze to wrap around you
when you feel the cold 
in your bone marrow.

my eyes are gifts from
somewhere else, to glance
fleetingly at you, and my
gaze is a gift from 
elsewhere, given to look at
you for hours and hours.

my hands have been built
to touch your hand secretly
in public, and to slowly
traverse you when its just us
lying naked and clothed
at home.

my body is a temple to
worship you, to be there
when you want a hot
weetie but haven't got a 
microwave. or when 
you've watched a sad movie
and want someone to hold.

my tongue and lips
were made to kiss
and praise everything
about you - even if you're
not here, and my heart is
made out of liquid silver
to flow around yours, forever
keeping yours safe.

Monday, September 24, 2012

















turbulence taking over
drowning out the croons.
i'm always difficult
and you can't be fucked.
we waltz and made promises
that won't stick, but we try
and we try and we are sublime.

i paint my heart black,
to take the piss, and you
take it literally and walk
out of the room, but
seriously sweet,
how can i deface something
that isn't mine?

even in the summertime
we get wasp stings, and
even in the winter the fire's
warm. its just context
its just how far one of us
pushes the trigger. well i
seem to push it too far
and it backfires and layers
my face in ash, so that when
you lean in to kiss me, all
you get is a mouth that's bitter.

bring home a block of butter
before you open the door.
remember i'm temporal
in notions and airs. i'm a
tempest and you're the
shore bearing the brute
force of my swings.

you know i don't mean it.
i just circle and circle above
until i dive, and crash into the
sand (i can't get my head out
of the sand, and i'm so full of shit).

you're just so still, and straight,
and drunk, and all i do is swirl
around you.  i'm like an enthusiastic
old car. it doesn't take much
to get me going, but i come
with a mechanic bill a mile long.
i have no subtly. i have no 
breeze to swan through open
doors and make everything 
smell nice. i'm so fucking
difficult. i keep squirming
and you hold me through 
words (or try to). but the 
only thing that satisfies me
is you in the flesh. anything
else feels contrived. like
you're lying all the time.
like it's all an elaborate joke
and one day you'll jump out
from behind a door with a 
big sign that says: U R A
LOSER. why would i
not be surprised? why would
i bat an eyelid when it's what
i expect. besides, you're going
to leave me.

you just don't know it yet.
lets call it quits.
i'm done. i 
don't like this
slow breaking down
i'm not like you,
i'm not uranium.
you always say
the wrong thing
at the wrong
time and the
right thing at the
right time, and i
can't get this 
out of my 
no-longer
breathing skin.
i'm a deer shot
straight through
the ribs. i hate
writing and i hate
your words. i
hate the promises
i made. i would rather
be alone in a single
bedroom apartment
with no one to love
than sitting here looking
at you.

but i know i wouldn't 
really at all. not even close.
i just injured myself
when i flew straight
into the glass.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

pastel projections,
astral freak shows,
you've gotten blind in
your life, your slow
bleeding cold fingers
wrapping around your
cold lover, and your
sweet breath is turning
to ash. your streaming
eyes are nothing compare
to your desolate soul of
cold capitalist tendencies
full of bullshit and gingsberg's
words. what are you becoming?
sleepless and wandering eyes
keep you slightly alive
and the simple idea of
a simple job seems like
a simple life of perfection.
but you can't have perfection
you are imperfect and in
yourself you are whole
and seldom sleepless.
yet you can't sleep
for fear you'll wake up
and no one will be there, the
clouds of hiroshima sits
high above your mantle
piece of disgust that
shrouds your cold
complexion, and hides
your growing distaste for
anything and everything real.
the only thing that holds you
tight to the world is
your slowly melting confusion.

yet he is there.

his eyes, like burning
conviction remind you
that in your sleepless nights
comes solitude, and in
your solitude comes forgiveness
and in your forgiveness
comes the realisation of the
the real. islamabad on fire
and the sound of children
inside you is enough
to shake fear into your
melted bones.

yet he is there.

holding your through
endless nightmare and
endless nightmare and
endless nightmare of
deconstruction and
reconstruction and the
brutalization of institutions
meant to continue to help
you but only shock you
with their horror. he holds
you through the shaking
quaking movements of
your own personal
disintegration into the
state. you are never to
be left aloof, rather, left
alone inside your mind but
you can not be. because
your dreary life view is
not reality.

the reality of this is you
are lucky, and loved, and
even your inconsistent mutterings
of trueness are not held accountable.
he is there to keep you safe,
and fuck you senseless and
hold your hand when you
feel like you are about to
cave in from the crippling
shyness that invades your
personal space when no one's
looking and no one cares.
he stills your fast beating heart
when your mind is racing and
you can not sleep. his memories
are your memories and his
life is yours. he won't
leave you to fend off the
leaves thrown at you
through the leaf blower
of expectation. you should be
accepting of your faults
like he is, his unfaltering love
and undying devotion is
a mirror of yours for him,
but you somehow still
manage to skew the lever
in your back to crack your
spine. oh, you are no monster
(though you wish you were)

and he sits there in your mind.

waiting for you to come to the
conclusion that you are whole
and fine and your sleeplessness
is a reaction to the emptiness
inside your bed.

inside your bed he lies,
yet he is there.
1. curl myself around your memory, i  miss you more than i could know, come home so i can kiss you
2. cut myself around your images, i am not here right now - out and about, leave a message
3. can't quite remember who i am, i left my keys at home, yeah whatever hey
4. could you plant seeds on my lawn, yes, no, pansys

Saturday, September 22, 2012























falling asleep to the 
sound of your voice,
you say she's going
away to collage, and
i can, i can see her.

my mattress is made of 
glass, suspended over
an infinite hole of depth.
infinite depth that would
consume me, could consume
me. but i could never
consummate the 
marriage. could never
validate the way he felt.

him, with his softness
and coarseness, and 
solidly jelly body. his
muscles, and sweat
dripping on me. him,
with his blank eyes,
bland ideas and boring
finality. him, with his
softness. too much
like a baby. i'm not
a mother.

i had this dream, 
lying in rest under
the cotton duvet, 
suspended over time,
where i left him,
for you. i was walking
down toward to the beach, 
and walked back up to home.

i saw you later that night.
we held hands secretly on
the couch, after educating 
ourselves on the hula chair
and tv hat. i had never
felt so secure. lying in a
cotton hammock 
above eternity. 

the fibers could break,
dropping me. but you
keep the strong, and you
never drip sweat on me.

Friday, September 21, 2012


i miss my boo.
i made him 5 things today when we had a craft party.



hes so lovely and so cool and aw.

all my kisses are hisxxx

Thursday, September 20, 2012




Simon KentgensBloom, 2009
Two nearly identical flower bouquets. One is real and one is fake. The real flowers gradually go bad during the exhibition, while the fake flowers stay exactly the same.

cool blog

when did i become so proactive?
poetry readings are awesome

Wednesday, September 19, 2012



sweeter than a pair of otters
i could hold my loves hand
alllllll day long
i don't understand you
your funny words
and attachments that
make no sense. you
speak, and are not spoken
for. you speak and say
things that are so strange.
you speak and make
me feel like i've gone insane
because i am confused about
who you are, what you say.
you used to be close to me, i
used to be close to you, but
the great rift caused a drift of snow
to keep us in our separate houses.
i don't know why you think you
are okay, you're becoming plastic
you're not real to me anymore.
i'm not angry, just confused and
this confusion feels unreal because
its strange and alien and just who
the fuck are you anyway?
sweet breeze
echos through 
my soft
touch.

you are
light in
dark and
dark.

somehow i
sought your
hand last 
night,

but you
are away
so i
slept.

however i
know you
are coming
home,

and this
is more
pleasing than
snow.

i can not wait to sleep with you again

The Country Of Marriage

I.

I dream of you walking at night along the streams
of the country of my birth, warm blooms and the nightsongs
of birds opening around you as you walk.
You are holding in your body the dark seed of my sleep.

II.

This comes after silence. Was it something I said
that bound me to you, some mere promise
or, worse, the fear of loneliness and death?
A man lost in the woods in the dark, I stood
still and said nothing. And then there rose in me,
like the earth's empowering brew rising
in root and branch, the words of a dream of you
I did not know I had dreamed. I was a wanderer
who feels the solace of his native land
under his feet again and moving in his blood.
I went on, blind and faithful. Where I stepped
my track was there to steady me. It was no abyss
that lay before me, but only the level ground.

III.

Sometimes our life reminds me
of a forest in which there is a graceful clearing
and in that opening a house,
an orchard and garden,
comfortable shades, and flowers
red and yellow in the sun, a pattern
made in the light for the light to return to.
The forest is mostly dark, its ways
to be made anew day after day, the dark
richer than the light and more blessed,
provided we stay brave
enough to keep on going in.

IV.

How many times have I come to you out of my head
with joy, if ever a man was,
for to approach you I have given up the light
and all directions. I come to you
lost, wholly trusting as a man who goes
into the forest unarmed. It is as though I descend
slowly earthward out of the air. I rest in peace
in you, when I arrive at last.

V.

Our bond is no little economy based on the exchange
of my love and work for yours, so much for so much
of an expendable fund. We don't know what its limits are--
that puts us in the dark. We are more together
than we know, how else could we keep on discovering
we are more together than we thought?
You are the known way leading always to the unknown,
and you are the known place to which the unknown is always
leading me back. More blessed in you than I know,
I possess nothing worthy to give you, nothing
not belittled by my saying that I possess it.
Even an hour of love is a moral predicament, a blessing
a man may be hard up to be worthy of. He can only
accept it, as a plant accepts from all the bounty of the light
enough to live, and then accepts the dark,
passing unencumbered back to the earth, as I
have fallen tine and again from the great strength
of my desire, helpless, into your arms.

VI.

What I am learning to give you is my death
to set you free of me, and me from myself
into the dark and the new light. Like the water
of a deep stream, love is always too much. We
did not make it. Though we drink till we burst
we cannot have it all, or want it all.
In its abundance it survives our thirst.
In the evening we come down to the shore
to drink our fill, and sleep, while it
flows through the regions of the dark.
It does not hold us, except we keep returning
to its rich waters thirsty. We enter,
willing to die, into the commonwealth of its joy.

VII.

I give you what is unbounded, passing from dark to dark,
containing darkness: a night of rain, an early morning.
I give you the life I have let live for the love of you:
a clump of orange-blooming weeds beside the road,
the young orchard waiting in the snow, our own life
that we have planted in the ground, as I
have planted mine in you. I give you my love for all
beautiful and honest women that you gather to yourself
again and again, and satisfy--and this poem,
no more mine than any man's who has loved a woman. 
Wendell Berry
you were taught
it was rude to
confuse your brain
with someone else's
heartache, but you
still do.

your friends are out
again drinking their
lives away, and you're
inside studying your
art through whiskey
lenses that steal your
eyes.

not seeing straight
doesn't mean you
can't see.
doesn't mean you
can't think for other
people and super impose
your own world views on
to their projected insecurities.

insecurities that leak from
the hole in the roof, into a
wishing well of silence that
slowly bleeds out your
relationships. your relationships
that curve away from space in
flux. your relationships are the
meaning in your candy floss
lost the toss life. your
ultimate sinking ship is him
and you and him and you.

don't say you never ever
wanted to board it and
tread water on the deck.
you always needed to patch
the torn sails, and you
know you'll never want to
leave this doomed heap of
piled wood.

you're filled with
everlasting joy
knowing your
doom is
your doom

Saturday, September 15, 2012



hana is a genuis
tim is super rad
i'm gutted i missed this
and they're so cool



she's flowing down
inside your heart
into your veins.
she's perfect and
complete. she's
wondrous and
slowly taking out
all the bad atoms
inside your heart.
you're complete
and perfect, sleeping
with your arms around
her, slowly letting it all
in. inside both your hearts
a new form is shaping,
flowing down from you
both, complete, inside
a brand new heart/

Thursday, September 13, 2012

GREY SCALE SKIN

take a shower in berrocca
punctuate your eyeballs out
take the last beer in the fridge
piss in all the empty bottles
drink four pints at 10 am
take away all your sisters dolls
drown yourself in cask rtds
take away this bizarre feeling 
inside your mind your walls are peeling
the stairs are starting to creak
how old is your home
how old is your soul
how cold are your bones
you're getting worried
you're tired
have a nap
take away the feeling
all your walls peeling
throw me down the stairs
throw out the trash
and collect my broken bits
save them in a tooth fairy jar
i'll be gone the next morning
take a shower in gold
sell yourself on ebay
steal the bar tab
teal rewards are waiting for you
behind a bar (that's silver)
stop the slaughter
of innocent trees
enslaved to create oxygen
taking in nitrogen
and spitting out poison.
spit poison
spit poison
spit poison
lover, its this.this i want to hold forever.this is what i've always needed/wanted/craved.this is me.you're not my other half/not my twin.you are my reflection.my sun shadow.you are the infinite amount of energy melted into my bone marrow.you are the slowly revolving mindset that swings from jealous rages to quiet peace of thinking.you are everything human to me.we are each others skies, lofty and alive.you are as tangible to me, as i am to myself.its this.this feeling complex and confusing.even when you're worst than hitler, you're as saving as grace.you pull me from murky waters into silt streams i can see through with clarity.in your room alone and naked, i am clothed with such emotion i was never naked at all.not even when i was born.red strings looped through our souls bind us.with all i have, beloved.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

i'm really bored.
i live in a new flat.
its cool.
like you.
you are rad.
i am soft
and you 
are soft
and happily
i can exist 
next to you.
lying in bed,
curved around
each other, we
reflect out of
each others
souls and 
connect 
through 
each other
to something
so much more



The Red_string_of_fate is an East Asian belief originating from Chinese legend and is also used in Japanese legend. According to this myth, the gods tie an invisible red string around the ankles of those that are destined to meet each other in a certain situation or help each other in a certain way. Often, in Japanese culture, it is thought to be tied around the little finger.
The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012




you're my warm bed
when its raining outside
and i feel lonely, but
safe because you're
only a fifteen minute
walk away if it gets
too bad
how do we remain optimistic 
in the face of reality?


despite  all
our heart aches
and slowly forming 
negative burns
how do we stay optimistic
in the face of reality?

staring down the barrel
of impending death and
sickness and failure
and cold winter winds
and humiliation
and bad art and 
bad life choices
we stay optimistic
because no matter 
how hard we try
to make ourselves
miserable we're all so
full of the desire to love
that we can over come reality
and tell our negative thoughts to fuck off



[EDIT:
turns out that 
in actual fact
your brain is
way more into
thinking positively 
about the future!
because the
part of your
brain that thinks
negatively about 
the future is way
less active than
the part of your
brain that thinks
positively.

so even our
brains are like:
don't worry be happy!]

Monday, September 10, 2012


And because Love battles

And because love battles
not only in its burning agricultures
but also in the mouth of men and women,
I will finish off by taking the path away
to those who between my chest and your fragrance
want to interpose their obscure plant.

About me, nothing worse
they will tell you, my love,
than what I told you.

I lived in the prairies
before I got to know you
and I did not wait love but I was
laying in wait for and I jumped on the rose.

What more can they tell you?
I am neither good nor bad but a man,
and they will then associate the danger
of my life, which you know
and which with your passion you shared.

And good, this danger
is danger of love, of complete love
for all life,
for all lives,
and if this love brings us
the death and the prisons,
I am sure that your big eyes,
as when I kiss them,
will then close with pride,
into double pride, love,
with your pride and my pride.

But to my ears they will come before
to wear down the tour
of the sweet and hard love which binds us,
and they will say: “The one
you love,
is not a woman for you,
Why do you love her? I think
you could find one more beautiful,
more serious, more deep,
more other, you understand me, look how she’s light,
and what a head she has,
and look at how she dresses,
and etcetera and etcetera”.

And I in these lines say:
Like this I want you, love,
love, Like this I love you,
as you dress
and how your hair lifts up
and how your mouth smiles,
light as the water
of the spring upon the pure stones,
Like this I love you, beloved.

To bread I do not ask to teach me
but only not to lack during every day of life.
I don’t know anything about light, from where
it comes nor where it goes,
I only want the light to light up,
I do not ask to the night
explanations,
I wait for it and it envelops me,
And so you, bread and light
And shadow are.

You came to my life
with what you were bringing,
made
of light and bread and shadow I expected you,
and Like this I need you,
Like this I love you,
and to those who want to hear tomorrow
that which I will not tell them, let them read it here,
and let them back off today because it is early
for these arguments.

Tomorrow we will only give them
a leaf of the tree of our love, a leaf
which will fall on the earth
like if it had been made by our lips
like a kiss which falls
from our invincible heights
to show the fire and the tenderness
of a true love. 
Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing. 

You know how this is: 
if I look 
at the crystal moon, at the red branch 
of the slow autumn at my window, 
if I touch 
near the fire 
the impalpable ash 
or the wrinkled body of the log, 
everything carries me to you, 
as if everything that exists, 
aromas, light, metals, 
were little boats 
that sail 
toward those isles of yours that wait for me. 

Well, now, 
if little by little you stop loving me 
I shall stop loving you little by little. 

If suddenly 
you forget me 
do not look for me, 
for I shall already have forgotten you. 

If you think it long and mad, 
the wind of banners 
that passes through my life, 
and you decide 
to leave me at the shore 
of the heart where I have roots, 
remember 
that on that day, 
at that hour, 
I shall lift my arms 
and my roots will set off 
to seek another land. 

But 
if each day, 
each hour, 
you feel that you are destined for me 
with implacable sweetness, 
if each day a flower 
climbs up to your lips to seek me, 
ah my love, ah my own, 
in me all that fire is repeated, 
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, 
my love feeds on your love, beloved, 
and as long as you live it will be in your arms 
without leaving mine. 
Pablo Neruda













you make me
happier than
i've ever
been and
this winter
is making
me sadder
than i've
ever been.
this could
be the
deepest cut
i've ever
felt because
darling everything
is you.
nothings died.
everythings fine.
but this
feels like
slow infanticide.
maybe its
the homesickness
maybe its
this song.
don't get
alarmed, because
love honestly
its all
totally fine.
just another
season in
the coldest
phase of
the moon,
just another
deep cut
trying to
wound my
fragile sense
of self.
but they
can't get
me babe,
not when
you're by
my side
fall through my 
cold bones
and take your
place in
the moss.

soft loss you're
going to take
me home.

soft loss you're
going to take
me back.

candy candy
pastel waiting
floss melts in 
your mouth like
a moth ball
found in your
pocket after
the great war.

its all cool
its all cool
it's only a cool breeze
whipping through
your clothes.

fall through my
yellowed eyes
and take your
place inside the
warm dark places
inside my heart.

soft love you're
all i ever need

Sunday, September 9, 2012


i mean i think
i think i
think you're
really cute
wanna lock
you in my boot 
so we can be together forever
and ever and i just think i
mean i think i
think you're
cute.