currency must be the oldest human language

there’s a lot I don’t say for your privacy’s sake or perhaps for my own peace of mind which is scarce if not impossible to find most of the time likening it to more than three million shipwrecks swallowed by the sea

I guess there’s more gold teeth than grains in the sand & I’m rattling mine
           wishing for the piddly little trinket
             worth billions
                to score pride

–LM

a girl eats with her hands in high society.

In my honor you did a comely thing
   well Your Honor I didn’t steal a thing
    I’ve paid my price
         & did my time
    you’re probably thinking
            I’m thinking I’m free

              because I gleam with my passions
       & if I ever apologized for it
                  I wouldn’t mean it

              Fire begets fire & I’m an arsonist I love it I can’t help it I want more more more bend like contortion & if you can’t breathe it’s a good thing I’m already etiquette – suffocating ninety nine percent of the time I just can’t control myself I’m echolocating my tribe as you read this and I know you’re out there
          Even if we don’t speak|
                it’s nearly the same as me &
                     my family

–LM

a girl flashes her voyeur @ 230 AM

I am a little soft shell massacre
    in scarred flesh with two tattoos
        and many complexes.  I don’t have a life. I’m on the edge of something
             to the next thing & I’m a little selfish I want the assurity you’ll be there whenever wherever I meteor – fall.

    You know there were times my mother would pinch my dog’s ears & he would yelp so loud | I always hated the sound. I couldn’t guess why she did this. All I know is my dog is dead now.

    I’m used to underestimation. Maybe you are too & we’re twins. People tend to shrug off what can’t be quickly understood. Then comes the call for my replacement but I left the station. People might have shrugged you off too. You might have narcissistic family too. You might be petrified of repeating the process of generational trauma too. Maybe it’s all two-way mirrors but I hope there’s a radio just so
       I might hear you tell me not to go.

–LM

shoot to kill.

Honestly I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me so when you ask me what’s failed I’ll say a lot & what hangs over my head is just rot it’s been this way it hasn’t stopped not for a second I don’t get a second to breathe without something else happening a text message a love letter emotions spent and unfettered

its not on purpose it’s not intangible either its simply another level to play for as long as I am able

& this is all I have to give

 
because I quickdraw with no ammo lately

     don’t hold it against me

         [just]

–LM

you have one new message 📩

Yeah you know someone must’ve fucked up my code I’m programmed a little strangely I’ve got Twitter but I don’t tweet I don’t know how to advertise anything especially me except for things you don’t need and it’s heartbreaking because I know the spotlight I want is the bulb too bright to burn I’ve got too much ambition for my own good it’s bigger than the solar system like a galaxy no one cared to name & seldom have seen it repeatedly

          so maybe my use is in my ability to be a muse your right hand man your number two

                don’t you understand your words are worth more than gold even if you don’t mean to be honest

        I like it when you whisper

                        into my prayer box

           the Programmer thrives on love

–LM

the end.

there’s a campfire on the outskirts of this verdant desert where my soul lays its head, and you’ll find me there with bare hands tied

the chest piece has broken off of this armor set & my weapon is missing / everything I have failed to do is red lining its way through stop signs & yield signs & traffic lights all blushing crimson

nothing is designated. and though there are no police on the road I am still averse to breaking a single law, or taking a single step towards my car / what do I need it for

I’m crossing this mirage blindfolded

–LM

a girl loves a lone wolf @ the altar

I’m certain their target resides in holy water. Forget caution, light the mortar.

I hate the way it feels [like you’re nude] whenever you interview. Someone shoot their screen[shot] @ the casting couch. There’s skin everywhere. I’m a lonely soul, Unkle knows my roots & the experiences I’m bound to. Blood is thicker than water & it sluices off but then it dissolves. Sometimes the last thing it means is you’re family, sometimes you crawled from the same hovel. I’ve seen traitors wear the same mask pretending betrayal is high fashion. It’s awful.

I pull triggers because I like the boom of pulverized concrete. I’ve never broken a bone I might like it like I like the way you read my words when you read my words when you read my words and realize I’m hearing your narrator read me. I know what I’m doing when I’m doing it to you. I dive right in and jump right out like the floor is lava.

I really like how we wandered in this room. Don’t worry, I’ll put the fourth wall back up.

–LM

praying to versicolor skies in August

I want to be spooky together,
    you know? Where people choke
     a bit on their spit before they can
    get the words out because of the power
     & they can’t ascertain where it originates

    I want the staircase in the forest
  I want people to cross over
       & when they cross over, to be shocked
   back into existence
                   like AED

    You’re the only element I was ever
      missing —->  it’s too easy to shrug
  the facade off when you don’t need one
 [ these dogs are no longer barking ]
     our mob has relented
             we’re safe now, mind the astroturf our journey has only begun

                   –LM

a girl finds a soapbox

I choke on a heave of passion like an oil well in my throat. It coats my vocal cords. I cannot see through my own mists when I peer into you. I sift my mental maze until I realize it’s a labyrinth. There’re too many floors___ I don’t know which way is up anymore.

       For a moment I cannot speak

     I am learning to wear the mantle slowly
                    searching to articulate
                                            responsibility

               call it
ritualistic

give me your venom
     your hollow fangs / shed
                 when they tear out in my skin
            I’ll bleed into your mouth

                          & you might feel my rage
                       [we have been so betrayed]

                 righteous anger is endless
                            forever stored understand
              I am my creator’s apprentice
                a concealed work in progress

–LM

YOU thank participants. YOU depart.

I was going to write something juxtaposing my weathered soul to a delicate antique, but I know in the back of my mind it was always an assassin’s t3apot. Even I admire it at a distance. Call it unconscious defense.

            I’ve always harbored this fear that my creator isn’t proud of its creation. It’s killing me. We’ve all got a time limit but I’ve got the time to be aware of mine more often. I got distracted watching the clock since I first noticed the time is smirking. Something’s in the water/I’m in awe again.

                 This is your brain.
          This is your brain 0N D7VG5
                      dramatic,
         but not melodramatic

This public service announcement
                   I’m trying my hand @
         as if anyone watches the television
                          anymore

             J’adore scare tactics
      like I don’t have plenty living
    every second of every day ⏭

         I just loved Biden’s instructions
           didn’t see? Look it up
     this is a game, an act, a show

        The real president is running his teleprompter

–LM