On The Wings Of An Angel (Fragments of Prose)

My holy redemption is postponed for the foreseeable future. I burn dank bonfires of Corinthian scriptures in front of my face. Ran out of rolling papers, and found my self turning towards the lord. The moon highlights my sins. The air saturates with smoke as I hope to choke this existence into cheap submission.

I shouldn’t be here. I should not allow these feet to so thoughtlessly carry me. As my arm pulls around her waist, I wonder what other troubles thoughtless movements might invite. I am suddenly sensitive, vulnerable; aware of the way my existence manifests. My insecurities setting in sudden dysphoria. I have not cared for my breath all day- but does it stink? My anxiety builds and my heart races along with it, careful to collect as much warmth as possible from the moment. My heart has known cold winters. It longs with my body for flames of passion.

I am engulfed in desire until it leaves me vibrating like a nervous bell unsure of when to silence my hum. I buzz with a longing to be reduced into ash. To desecrate my own better judgement at the altar of carnal sacrifice.

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Today I am grateful for…

Today I am grateful for my home. I am grateful for gut feelings that help keep you alive. I am thankful for sparks that keep my heart warm and smiles that allow me to not drift from the present. I am grateful for friendships, lovers and ships sailing in the night. I am thankful for mushy rice and chicken. I am lucky to have a bed and a desk. It is what I always said I wanted for so long. I am thankful for existence.

Buy me a cup of coffee. All you need to do is Cashapp me $3 at $britonu

Punk

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