Beached craft
Begging a current...
When the sun shines, does water laugh?
Dependency is the joke, to never relent...

Oil, has forgotten the cares of us...?
Slippery and truthful
Teeth are sincerity's weapon, poised to hush?
A saving ask, of when the truth is same's goal...

Justice for a tear?
Simple chaste, to entail charisma
Form and function, with pity's honor?
Sake promised, a fate before silence and sanity...

A ****** eye, with a stark devotion...
Paired to consume
The deeds of actual shares, a time for notions
That played their part, to a divine doom?

When is water, a living miracle?
When it feeds you...
Spare shadows and hunger, and means to lend a will...
Avid to terror's dream, who else sniff's glue?

River accepts; reasons and done...
Sweet exception, in the needs we fare
Are the told, the toiling west of money?
Taken for sincerer times, the opus of care?

Think allure...
Is a wealthy shoe, the only way to dance?
And to imagination in the same, a rolling curiosity
With the times of decency, hopefully avidity's moments...

Think composure...
So waited, if not weighted to advance
The notion of simplicity, as a spare continue, of open worth
Order and chaos, with misogyny as arduous a stance?

Think despondency...
Letting worth, keep the better of common assumption
A halt of silence, in the name of rendering immediacy
A stoic habit, of a quiet question:

Thank dependency...?
Reality to venture forth, with seldom's catch
I am the patience of virtue, the vote of leniency?
Like appetites of justice, in the our of stirring cope, I have seen silence's legend...

I can't stand myself. I'm scared that if I let myself think, I'll spiral so far down that I'll never come back up for air. I don't want to be crazy. I don't. I don't want visions from God. I don't want to see the cameras, check the locked door six more times, shake when the tires veer too close to the curb. I don't want to scream every time I see my reflection blink. I don't want to see my reflection blink. How do I convince myself that I still have time to build a life worth living when I lose myself every day in my delusions? Will I one day stop returning to reality? Will I still have time to build a life worth living if I don't? Do I live in the rot, let it consume me and wait to forget, or do I make something of myself, just to lose it the next time I have an episode? I lose hours talking to myself. I lose myself in the hours in between. And I'm terrified to lose everything. I religiously keep receipts and old packaging, mementos of every average Tuesday evening, because what if what if what if? What if I reach thirty and do not remember being twenty two? What if this is all I have to remember that I had a life before I lost it? What if I don't reach thirty and this collection of memories is the only thing left of me? Does a person's potential die when their mind begins to lie, or when they begin to believe it? I don't know if I have psychotic episodes anymore. It's more like episodes of lucidity to break up my average day of hiding from the NSA or my landlord or my neighbor or the ghosts or the devil or God or my mother or myself. Will I ever be a real person? If I build a life worth living, will I have my mind long enough to settle into it? I look to the future and there's a fog I can't quite see through. I'm afraid when I get there, that the past will look the same.

Who the ****, and why.
The owner of the eye
Can answer my question,
Whoever it is that's watching;
Stop wasting your time

~
Saturn Jupiter Mars,
three blind mice running
up the clock to find freedom.

starlight stairs in abyss,
cities of the interior ring
carry a dangerous cargo: citizens.

t-minus one/this is fear

I am no astronaut,
I'm a refugee, bleeding hands pressed
tight to the barbed-wired fence.

we play charades from the window,
lunar phases keening
in the tender light of these infant wars.

t-minus one/this is fear

farewell threshold on laudanum,
the grifted gift of the Joe Blakes
painted from memory.

the far off observation
telescoping my fear, leading me
to believe I'm hiding in plain view.
~

Camouflaged amongst
chaotic crowds
 
Eyes with a ****** range
Scanning
 
Target detected.
Locked in                              
 
since you weren’t
Locked up.
 
Heart rate raised. Enraged.
I check my calibre.

Time passes a thought
To another, in a climbing sense of renderings...
We see the call to unify, in a shy voice ought?
Today was a marveling hour, we could marvel's ends...

Bite me...with a resolve?
They said the sour news is a welcome sunshine
With pets and history to come at all...
Of a younger moment to be quiet, for a composure of time...

Hours as we know, a fixation on else
Can be, the truth be found in a place of sin
Was this imagined tongue, the saying of wealth
Yet to be, the stir of justice of what is a craved wince...

Of passion over a legend to become, our friends
The tale we notice, and simplify by devoid and avoid
Is but a loose remark of such to roll and imbue, the like we end
As if the world knows any better: the fight of certainty's choice...?!

Sly or slime?
Tows of redoubt, between lovers or a heroism of dry finality's
Sunny as we should note, is about the hour I am trying
We see the traitor of commonness and pence, our humor is...

A rushing eye, to know a catastrophe
That is being a silent opportunity, to approach though
And worth the implied key, we find in the future feat
Of lying to the misses, when a game is for those we hosted, should first owe...?

-stress.

Ever restless mind
Of
Mine.

I wish thou
Would be
Still
For once in my life.