bad pony

Autonomy the rocking horse swing breaks loose from its hinges and sends you tumbling into the biting kiss of an oak root crimson tinges...

everything I’ve done lately is an attempt at greater honesty I’m whispering all my secrets into a megaphone, standing on the highway...

you sit with him at the edge of the water; it slaps the concrete below warning you, a wheezing half dead thing in his lap. you tell him...