using this medium to scrap
what i’m not willing to carry today
unduly honor-bound
this has become strained
at the edges of my peripheral,
warping into a mirage of heat lines
and yet remains
wholly under my thumb
for now
TEEMING
how do you expect me to keep this up?
if
i am what i think about all day
and
i am what i do
then
come take my hand
because if He’s not here
then where?
despite my belief in such nonsense,
this could be a sign
all i need to do is allow my self
to step back and absorb
the scale
and admit to myself that
i’m terrified of
the Consequences
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
nestled comfortably amongst the murk of my blanket (statements)
she’s slowly extruding lies and melting into
myself (assessment)
dripping, as it trickles down
oozing from your swollen
leaky *******
squelching the flames of my
passion (project)
desires left smoldering as i sup
upon the thick
and pitiless black smoke pouring
from somewhere inside
feeling ashamed of how
i must look this does
not relent
the maelstrom of
aspersions cast by my
tongue (bath)
on all that pass here without a second glance
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 3:43 AM UTC
No one bleeds like you
And you’ll never understand.
******* narcissist.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 9:02 PM UTC
I easily confuse your ****** shrapnel with beauty.
When hearing the symmetry in the voice of gods.
That sweet balance of indirect proportionality.
Like sloshing foam trapped in an equilateral cradle.
Your lies always calming me into the ease of this chaos.
All these nights spent in this parking lot.
(You’d don’t know: I’ve been here before)
But now having tasted it, I can’t comprehend how to push back the veil.
And finally getting what I asked for, I can’t take the weight.
This reality sends me begging.
Cowaring in the corner.
Choking on all the variables.
Reneging for my well-worn cross.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 10:49 AM UTC
On days like today:
Cold and hard
I hit snooze too many times
To stay in bed for another round
Of thinking
Listening
Praying
Any you,
Glinting through soggy eyes,
Begging for hope,
While pulling the wings off your only chance to find it
Even though your love’s bound in tragedy
You can surely find a way to see it...
Try running your fingers along the voluptuous curves of its symmetry
Without digging your nails in
Or do...
I know I love it
And don’t forget to look for me, my lover
I’ll be the one with broken knees
That you’ll have to circle back for
At the End
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
Here I am.
Again.
A subject almost too fossilized to write about
If I’ve strained every morsel of poesy from this experience then,
why do I keep living it?
Choice?
I am able to feign perennial gratitude for my salvation
For one brief moment
Before I’m willing to sell every stitch of my being for one last
glimpse
of synthesized rapture
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 9:37 PM UTC