BIDDY FOX:
i've been awake for too long
pretending not to be alone
four in the morning
I could take sleeping pills if I willed them to work
I used to have a friend who was scared of the dark
i tried to explain the darkness was the backdrop
the blank space, and the blank space connecting us
I'm walking outside
i am never gonna be home, always gonna be alone
at night we all stand under the stars
and we think that distance tears us apart
but if we're both in the dark in different places we're really in the same place
cause light is just an interruption, paint on the black canvas
the infinite void that exists outside our vision
you shouldn't be scared of the dark, you should live in it instead
and feel together curled up under the stars

PIGEON SCRATCH:
and maybe it was ok
you existed for a while
but now you're gone
you're not coming back soon
that's the long lost truth
that's lovelorn uncouth
and i fell asleep gently
glowing under the moon

BIDDY FOX:
I am imagining a kid on a forum
circa two thousand and nine
falling in love with the words on a webpage
forgotten the second he logs off
I am imagining a girl in a chat room
circa twenty nineteen
by this time those words are forgotten
but she foolishly falls just the same

who is this voice talking to me? are you that part of me that cares about other people in that deep annoying way? that always hides every time I really need you? I got over my anxiety, I taught myself to speak like a New Yorker and not a shy net-dweller, but you, little bunny rabbit, you run to your warren whenever you have to talk to somebody and I'm left so cold and aggressive. I filed down my teeth like the bunnies in the bloody cartoons I used to draw. I have learned to accept the taste of meat. Why haven't you, sweet love, my id, my shadow? We used to sit together and talk late in my room, and I'd draw you all soft in my notebook. It was comfortable, and you refused to leave. I would hate and pity you, if you didn't clearly love so much.

did you ever read The Northern Caves? my friend esther told me about it, it is a visceral portrait of a part of history, it makes for good cosmic horror too, and it's so deeply familiar, it could very much be something real, even the unbelievable parts are a little believable, the way real obscure history like that is, because the truth is muddied and obscured, it can never be all that clear, can't it? everything we know for sure were just taking someone's word for it, but now i've descended into cliche, i'm sorry. of course you can't sleep, you've got your shoes on. take them off, smoke up a little, relax, maybe nothings happening tomorrow but even geniuses need to sleep.