the waiting
that's what i hate most
on these
just another
colorless
tepid body
to comfort
my dead zone
nights
where is he?
what is he doing?
i'm beginning to tremble
my muscles
they won't stop
popping
buttered corn
it's three o'clock in the morning!
a score
the streets
they turn into
something different
at night
invisible to normal
brilliant to active
people
transforming into
red dragons
crawling around
on all fours
where is he?
begging
trading
offering
fire for
water
salt
for
substance
six o clock in the morning
still not here
never again
i take a sip of beer
unsubstantial relief
a knock at the door
i'm gunna beat his ass!
open the door
a smile
some white
some grain
some dose
for my equis
forget it
i'll whip his ass later
right now i love him
tomorrow
i'll hate him
"hi baby, i've missed you all my life."
Split
Pretend
Split
Crackle
Jet
Springs
Recoil madness
The colors
They seem so
Vibrant
Today
Yesterday
Black
Overlapped
Browns
Into grey
Today
The lake
It had a
Squiggly sense
But it made sense
Nonsense
The hawks
Hack quicksand
Yielding pitchforks
For opportunistic
Hitchhikers
Beware
Be aware
Squinted eyed
Matchstick heads
Spy
When
You
Are
Not looking
They know you.
Linda says, "Sometimes people do things in life not because they want to, but because they have to. For this reason I write. If you’d like to know more about me read between the lines. My other works can be found in: Abby’s Realm, Deviant Lit, EIDOS, Fuck Decency, KungFu, The Nocturnal Lyric, Our Journey, Prometheus, Scriberazone, Suzerain Enterprises Undershorts, and Updare."