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13 Jun 2017
I’ve forgotten the taste of love. The cherished threads that tie people together.
The feelings they profess in supposed honesty, the joy and ecstasy.
I’ve missed opportunities, naturally. Nature played me.
Distraught, I ran from a thought.
I ran a lot.

At the gates of responsibility’s exit, I had another thought. One without definition or reason.
Another ego maniacal ***** fit. A watered down vintage. Faked antique.
Off balance in a world out of balance, yet fools think they cancel each other out.
Sometimes it’s enough to lighten the load — fill the hole.
Usually not.

Escaping reality has its perks. You don’t feel bludgeoned by your actions or burdened by their consequences.
I think of the past as a mirror, when it’s really just a sprightly melancholic, yet gut wrenching, novel awaiting a squeal.
And I’m the only one who can write it. Expecting anyone else to would make the end predictable.
This is how all sad ironies of life must end.
Off the top of my head.

I’ve forgotten myself. I sometimes can’t recognize the person inside this shell.
These actions, thoughts, this ego — I am more than I know or understand.
Not necessarily a bad thing. Most definitely not a good thing either.
Come out guns blazing and paint the town only to apologize profusely — to each and every rotten corpse thereafter — to each and every ***** **** and dripping ****.
I am not your savior.

I make my own hell. I made this bed the day I claimed my throne.
And all your dreams flew into my **** ready to be ****** and multiplied. Progenies of your inner war. The cruelty of your being made thought, sin made flesh, hate made speech.
A victim of the false promise, the martyr of a hollow conscience. I am the end result of my own intentions.
I hate this.
Posted on October 10, 2015
13 Jun 2017
Break open the center and let it out
this nurtured, confounded realization of loneliness
as it spills. It gushes into the streets,
infecting everyone with an emptiness—unnoticed,
we’re walking amongst corpses that can’t smell their kind
till heads turn at the sound of someone living, screaming, writhing—
dying.

Like how we arrange lovers and hearts in cupboards in the mind
murderers and betrayers roam freely, killed often
no room for consolidation and refinement, schedules don’t permit
the need to feel is greater than the need to believe
and no words of wisdom or profundity can replace the hunger
to crave the flesh, the mind, the soul, becoming whole in anger and confusion—
simply.
Posted on September 12, 2015
13 Jun 2017
Without a thought, consciousness dawdles.
Here, there, everywhere. In the dark, the horizon’s alight.
Realizing the presence. Forgetting the essence

Feet feel filth. Dirt. ****.
Mucking around. Failing eyes lie.
Lights are a ruse. Shadows are alive.

Morph into beasts, cannibals, men.
Shiver in the shell. Outside, it’s hell.
Outside - The mind. Inside - The world.

Demented faces drift slow. Relishing fear.
Then somewhere, the sky revealed a fragment of a million billions.
Perpetual bliss, inches from fingertips.

Reach out and they ebb. Pull in and they near.
Traveling through space with mere sight.
Contrast poisoned the mind.

Horror subsides and delay catches up.
Cells tingle with excitement. Acute sensations grow.
Silhouettes appear, dangerously unclear.

In the corner of the eye, beings of the night.
Weary vision seeks answers it cannot find. No fabled truths.
It’s all in the mind.

The horizon painted a canvas-
Of dusky mountains and scattered clouds.
Waving and restless - Unearthly beauty.

A carpet of dew and grass, teasing trepidation.
Engulfed by clouds, one by one the lights go out.
Streaking chills up the spine. Freezing. Divine.

Welcome the demons.
The mind is a playground.
Players are illusions.
Posted on August 20, 2015
13 Jun 2017
I’ve wasted a good bit of my life doing this.
I am ashamed and chalk full of regret right now, but in a few minutes, all those terrible demons will be driven away.
I am expecting a package to be delivered.
Spent the whole day idling in wait. Lolling, rolling, indolently knolling my attention bell.
Listening, for that fateful moment when the car would ram through the building’s gates and park itself, figuratively, with the desired goods in tow, capriciously.

A few half hours away, in a thatched hut next to the railroad tracks that lead up to here, a sprightly old man impatiently tosses out bags of lush, matured, ambrosia.
He’s ecstatic that we’ve come at 5 am to purchase his valuable merchandise.
A half hour of window shopping later…. Transaction complete!!.
The return is swift, silent. Nervous.
One hundred grams. Enough to have your grandchildren have children without you around.
One moment, the cabin is quiet. Another, and the seat is on fire.
Rabid vibes this early in the day can only lead to one thing.
The Law! Everywhere you look… Eying you like they know… Like they all know.
But they want you to think that they don’t so they let you go. And you’re left to ponder the tragic possibilities of “what if.”

Pacing the room, I see what I’ve been expecting, finally arrive.
Clenching the door’s handle with my eye ball driven right up the peep hole, my heart bursts into flames.
The door is flung open and in it comes.
Squares of lush green, lengths of buds serene.
Aromatic and hypnotic. Retardation and euphoria.
This moment vs. What the hell was I talking about?
In a circle of tyrants and philosophers we’re lost choreographers of affluent lives.
******* slow at the fire inside, that shows us how we forgot to cry.
Delivery complete. Demons extinguished. Attention bell is ringing loud and clear.
Gentlemen, this meeting is adjourned.
Posted on July 10, 2015
13 May 2017
Turning left triggers migraines
my eyelids graze flaring screens
that discharge cold lightning in to my brain
the asymptomatic essence dissolves in a shade of sepia
welcoming what will become another day in the mental calendar.

Uneasiness will creep into this calmly drifting hour
and fruitless realization will take root
ignoring what has become of the past, the morning
inviting what is to come, the afternoon, the evening, the night.
The following seconds are warped in flow
there is little time to let bygones go.
As light escapes this crystal globe
and sparkling diamonds are left to bloom
I am still where my mind was wrought
when cold lightning to me was brought
zooming out to the grandest scale, the weeks, the months, the years unveil
whole lifetimes in lethargy lost.

This is what our excuses dearly cost
standing up is psychophysiological strain
only sleep numbs the pain.
Posted on May 26, 2015
13 May 2017
Of what violins and vaginas singularly sing,
Is a creation unbound by the vestiges of sin.

A persona unchained by the compounds of life,
Forever in fury, an eternal delight.

Inexorable, inexplicable, impeding time
A fatal addiction for articulate lies.

Lies, in truth, are not what they seem—
Bold, these words are beautiful, and serene.

Twisted entirely by the sleight of a hand
That would never touch the soul, the thought, the man.

By what dreams and nightmares are haunted—
Red lips that can never be daunted.
Posted on May 12, 2015
13 May 2017
We all want certain things to last forever.

An un-cupped delight in a crowded bus—Spirit of fury rendering you unstoppable—A flash of lightning in your step—A loving embrace—The ocean air—Admiration, unchecked—The fall with no end.
Breakfast… Certain things….

She told me that she liked the way my lips used to taste.
They’re alive now, sadly.
I guess I’m just missing death.
Posted on May 9, 2015
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