dichotomous nothing
the air bleeds
honey cough syrup
stirred by a Southern wind
winding ribbons around the soul
symphonies around suffering
boxed up in pairs
sweet like pears
the taste of bitters on my tongue
lick the surface of starving minds
tired bones buried
deep
in the earth
dormant dead and dusted
dreaming of something better
than sallow skin
bone marrow chipping in
to make days of dichotomous nothing
will there ever be something
hi guys welcome back to my channel, today i have for you some fresh knowledge I found on the ground. The sky was out this week it was kinda awesome sauce, I hope yall went out to smell the air and rain.
bonus knowledge images for you guys below hehe
So I ate at some places this week, but they weren’t anywhere new, so I wanted to draw my attempt at making Korean fried chicken!
Who’s looking for Ringo?
I’m sure I had another sheet between these two but I can’t find it, so the really old one is what I’ll compare it to. Taya got more swoopy bangs and a summer outfit of a loose shirt and culottes. Her eye shape changed to be more sad, gentle, and peekable under her bangs. I like how I gave her short hair spikes, and switched the choker gem to a pin. The sweater’s meant to be braided.
Me when I can have a girl dinner without a boyfriend screaming in my ear… like, it’s just noodles and butter!
Mosher-Jordan Dining Hall, 5:30PM, 2/5/2025
when the earth was born it appeared purple in the sky, like a blood clot against the skin, a bruise never fully healed. in an instant, an element so volatile it recolored the planet’s iris. an oxygen holocaust. do plants remember? violet fades to verdigris, the seed a photograph, the stamen a scar. lavender grows in my backyard as a gentle reminder of the transgressions i’ve accumulated. act the saint, so you can turn me into the sinner–
She used to stay with me ever since I was born, I mean, like, I’ve stayed with her for the past nineteen years…
Science Learning Center, 2:30PM, 2/5/2025
millions will die in this false spring, in the eye of storm and shadow. with the grace of a twig contorting in a wildfire, the passage from person to thing, a frozen pipeline, a burst eardrum. even after a flood, the water reconfigures itself. in a thousand years there will be villages of coral nested in your ribcage and schools of salmon swimming through your skull. in a thousand years man will marvel at the atlantis you have created, a legacy beyond flesh and bone.
Go ahead…
No, I could talk about it for hours—
—and I want to hear it!
Michigan Union, 11:00AM, 2/20/2025
the diary of a lover is filled with ellipses–it hurts too much to end even a sentence about you. we are dust mites floating together and the sunbeam is our domain. in this world, a glimpse of the heavens: what guides us also restrains us, but this is a good restraint, this fusion of you and me… consider the weight of the world in one hand and your fingers clasped in the other. if nothing lasts forever, maybe i can be nothing with you…
