My insecurities are committing indiscretions on my lawn of tropical greenery and sleep. This house I practice living in is made of wrinkled laughter and concrete. Above disdainful clouds, a power struggle between emptiness and fulfillment fought with fully automatic glowsticks. I close the spider owned windows and ignore my insecurities, baring themselves to the world like voyeurs.
Day: June 29, 2026
Leering Lake
The leering lake watches my alabaster thighs on the shore almost lasciviously. Beneath the textured surface of unforgiving water, a predator from the depths of the mundane is peckish and observing me thoughtfully. My mouth is closed by a pink plastic button. Beneath my short chartreuse shift I shiver. The lake calls to me like a jealous lover, watches me flirting my eyelashes at the flowers.
Miniature Moon 