The mirroring motor man reminds me of when I placed my mind in a raffle for the highest bid of sanity and control (driven like his bike)
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021 at 10:44 PM UTC
Words splintered on the heart:
Grandmother, I'm breaking the chain.
The light bursted through your open eyes at death.
There you were swallowed with ferocity by the sun from which you danced and plotted in the night, as a cat hunts with the risen moon.
Light, despised in terror.
Prophecy:
The light seeps through my pores, and I will not be cold. Horrors confronted, abolished.
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021 at 7:09 PM UTC
Young brother
Let me not
Betray
You
Here I am! Standing, walking, moving
Forward, forward, forward
Your gift; it was not in vain
You have come to me as a Christ
Embodied as a boy who has shared a portion of blood and tender empathy;
You have healed me when I did not ask
And I shall not spill a droplet of my own anymore;
For my blood is your blood
And to love myself is to love you
Young brother
Let me not
Betray
You
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021 at 4:01 PM UTC
Spirit, give forth or sleep, for this lukewarm life is the coldest of deaths.
Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 3:38 AM UTC
Tattered painter's whites;
The torn paper of a hand-rolled cigarette;
These are the possessions which should rip me up along with them
Yet, it's lessened the grip
In fact, I don't feel much;
Save the relief of living in discomfort, which always beats the discomfort of living in dysfunction
Especially when you know the dysfunction is rolled into function by your own hand
By the very same hand which rolled that broken smoke;
Yes, it's better to mess up your own ingestion than to infest the pleasantries of cleansing incandescence.
So 'fess up when you set yourself up
And don't set the rest up with bad luck
It doesn't take too long to figure out your mess-ups.
After just a few seconds, I inspect; finding rest in the resonance behind this lesson which is not less-than.
Let's then shape this paper back together,
And together find the shape that could never be painted on tattered white paper
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 6:36 PM UTC
6
6
6
It is void now.
Man
Man
Man
(Unintentional hypocrisy)
Ashes to ashes, for dirt was meant to tarry.
Not with a purpose, but because it found something pointless to help **** the boredom. Still, better than some hobbies.
Scrupulosity, the prison in the sky
When I visited Pop there he showed me how to take a long hit of Hell smoke.
16 days catatonic.
It was enough for me.
But Pop, he got too
high
Hospitalized for a revelation of the second death after worshiping televangelists in solitary.
The Serpentine Christ loves those with money.
Forgive him Father, for he knows not that
he earned his severance in my mother's womb
(7 bank accounts)
Shine it up good and spend it all up at the right time.
Pop is broke now.
6
6
6
(all is vanity beneath the sun)
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 6:23 AM UTC
Despise it, for it is but a
worthless
thing.
I (am your reincarnation) love you, grandmother, the reprobate (the compulsions I will always wage war with)
One link, I will break the chain.
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 6:40 AM UTC
Anonymous anomalies
Cold-crusted hands pronouncing death to traditional points of view
She forecasted my luck,
Prophesied my tucked away warrants
Who could find these expressions when the covert was locked?
She struggled with hatred
Her bitterness was overtly hidden
Only those who knew her microexpressions were gifted to place valid differentiation
And it was all contagious;
The joyful glow and the haunting dread
"Mr. Carriage, thank you for volunteering"
She wept profusely. Then my hands became warm, but she was covered in a cold blanket
Your time is done, Mr Carriage
Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 5:02 PM UTC
In the quiet of the night
When I try to slumber
Thoughts come rolling in
Like tides of emotional
Reactions
Like factions of the heart
Actions of the truth
Manic highs or seething lows could not render, could not decalcify the solitude
Of honestly objectified encroachment put to motion
By contriteness and conviction in my soul
To the forbearing completion
Of an undelivered lie
Brought to light by undeniable
Confirmation manifested by the silent ringing of the conscience bearing witness
To these ties
And someway knowing well wherewith it hides,
We watch and wait
For the Encroachment
Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 2:47 AM UTC
Behind funereal lights
My eyes dim the day
How I walk on my way
As the Observer
Set far bereft
With the tenures of death
My presence inflects
The Observer
But silhouette smiles
Began to deject
For 24 minutes by the fire
And tears more profound
Than the breadths which inspire
Melded with the waves of the sound
Reflection,
Oh reflection
Who is this man?
With a strong brow and real estate eyes
Oh, the mirror was wrecked
In a spiritual hex
Now the only face I can't check is mine
Remember, you lovers
With roads paved in gold
Highways will lead you to suburbs
Grounded on earth,
Look up to the sky
And there you will find
The Observer
Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 2:38 AM UTC