I can't write about big things

I can't even write.
The only comment I'll give on this is that it's a work in progress
which says a lot actually.
...damnit.


I'm not going to start caring simply because
You're dying.

fuck all these sounds.
There are spiders in the blankets and on the pillows and the lips
That wall of comfort has collapsed
This debris signifies the end of change...(work in progress)
for nothing.
blood
for nothing
creativity
for nothing
The stars and the nebulas are really quite insignificant.

Face to face with a hurricane
or a
Car wreck
You can't understand

I'm sure
It was the way your body screamed
No
in that light
and those ancient doctrines that damn and divide
that burned that night

when all you know is hate
it's so easy to open up to
when all you ever dreamt about fame
it's so easy to know and not care
I
Identify
with you because of the hate
the odium
under which that heavy hand
does falls upon your nape.