obsidian flaked insecurities interwoven through the soulheather like thistle thorns on the stem of tomorrow and the chimes sing in the breeze heavy heart laden with prudent heresies gold flecked irises unblinking an owl in flight soft silence on the wing of night tremulous tumor inconsistently consistent in depth of unholy need the fangs of […]
it is just the average soul crushing hellfisting on repeat a kind of struck match to the tinder of despondent fuckall
she stands at the stove humming a nonsensical song while keeping an eye on a series of bubbling pots this is the moment i yearn to slide behind her wrap my arms around her waist smell the scents of cooking with the smell of her hair as i place a soft kiss upon her ear […]
as i peel back the onion skin exposing the onion skin beneath expecting the new layer to be an epiphany of sorts in a languid absence of answers, there is an epidural effect as the spine stops responding to signal i just wish the needlework stitching of the vivacious nurse with almond eyes who blushes […]
i call your name in the silence between notes in the lull between lines it is in those spaces i fall apart.
New Panic Room Radio w/Cerberus Thursday the 3rd of September the three headed beast is going to be on with Xtina and James to discuss our latest release, Cerberus Rising: Nine Novelettes. Expect each of us to do a brief reading. I have chosen a conversation about pools and phalluses. Should be fun. Links to […]
i am a glass bird pecking at the keys in the futility of feeling anything but lost much like the bird i cannot reckon my own fictional existence in diction in fiction in prose i expose that when the man was removed from the cave in plato’s allegory he spent the rest of his life […]
she broke the spell of her lullaby of frustration now the universe is restless her limbs deadened from so long immobile she sang softly beautifully of what was lost beneath the weight of loss the levees crumble
a year of rejections from the life destroying to the more mundane decisions my art was not good enough i can only assume there is a lesson in this as well but the depression has swallowed any sense of learning my heart is not enough my soul is too tattered my words ring hollow my […]
i have accepted the fact that there is no beauty comparable to you that i will always be chasing after your ghost that i will never give every piece of myself to another after having it delivered return to sender to my stoop the simplest of realizations are the most painful
i saw you briefly in the corner of my mind’s eye standing silently at the edge of the crowd for a second our eyes met yours widened mine squinted as i tried to believe what i saw was truly there you vanished lost in the faceless face of the crowd while i stood on teetering […]
Mike's Manic Word Depot 