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Every patch of fur was visible evolving from my dog’s flesh. The swift movement it carried with the air around us lifted the hair in sync with it’s own overwhelming joy of fresh air. Enveloped completely in the rhythmic repetition of footstep-beat-footstep-sax-footstep-strum-footstep-drums-footstep-vocals-footstep-music. Focus has won me over not noticing my x-axis turn into y. Free-fall into hysteria. Keeping the motion as the dirt kicks up, watching people scream, fight, run, and drop. The mouth opens, my feet touch air, my head pulls back, my hands tangle. A heartbeat. We’re six feet under. Heartbeat. Dirt replaces air. Heartbeat. What earthquakes can do. Heartbeat. What can stop a heart. Heart… stops.

you make me love write

im already designing my tattoo 

for my 18th birthday gift…. to myself

i still have a few more months to decide