right before your
cotton candy eyes
it all falls apart
you worked so hard
positioned your
corpse six feet deep
only to find out
you missed the
pearly white gates by
a couple of inches
and someone heard
the tapping of your heels
against fresh lamented
wood floors
and told his brother
and her sister
that you were alone
and vulnerable
and so you hid behind
the tanks, lit the fuse
and watched the battleground
explode into tiny fragments
of new beginnings
made the best of loss
is what you did
but the others knew better
than to let this peace go on
much longer
thus the internal
struggle continued;--
licking your sweet lips
until they parted,
you revealed gaps in
hardwired teeth
and they never
looked so beautiful
as they did now
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 1:42 AM UTC
i walk down this street
keep to myself, head first
into shadows strewn across
the pavement; little images
for big brown eyes,
someone said you look
like the shy type, the kind
the runs away when the time's
right
and boy, were they wrong
if we are supposed
to be here, then why does
it feel like the opposite?
i ask the same questions
in class, stare at the clock
until it strikes six; the bell
signals for my grand entrance
i escape through the exit
only to find myself
knee deep in some kind
of crippling reverie;
leave finger prints
on the walls, the shells
of my limbs somewhere
on the floor
a walking oddity
given life by a
budding game designer
with the pose of an angel
i stand in your way.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 1:50 AM UTC
how did we end up here
face down in the puddle
of dying fluorescent lighting
our eyes flicker
memories of woe,
(you're
a one digit
reminder)
and gravestones
with ropes
tied to their
sides;
crumble
with days gone by
how benign
it is to see our favorite
lovers arguing with
one another on
the corner with no
name
let's never
cross that street
when i dream
it's of
rotten cornfields
and charred
newborn bodies
a man hunts me down
tears right through me
then i tear right
through the next man
and this goes on
and on...
until i'm unable
to shed anymore tears
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 1:42 AM UTC
a man in the abyss
told me all about you
cleared up things
real quick;
and here i was wasting
so much time confused
i took a question mark
and straightened it out,--
was i too loud?
i am missing out
on your warm breath
at the moment
but aren't we the gaps
in crooked smiles anyway?
something that isn't there
has been here all along
or vice versa
ad infinitum
a woman held you
in her arms once
and fed you
till you became
plump with envy
and courage
now it's a battle
royale among
the voices
hush
you tell them
with your last breath;
an every day occurrence...
like the tongue of a
dull knife against
the sand dunes of time.
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 1:56 AM UTC
take it easy
let the poison
takes it course;
through the veins
seep like a willow,
seek
until there
is no more
desire to do so
and breathe
because
it's all you have
till the truth comes home
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 2:36 AM UTC
what to do with a broken
knee cap, tilted mindscape,
loss of stabilized perception?
comb the hair to the right,
let the fringe do all the
talking,
bang, bang, bang
shoot down the rest
of the face;
for it's smiles that keep
us at bay, until we are saddened
once more
by those despicable thoughts
how they cease to persist.
but persist they must
for what is a being
without opposition?
be it
itself
or a finely structured
organization.
and so as organisms
it's our duty to
rise, expand,
fall and collapse
and continue this
without much reason
and purpose
till it's no longer
a viable option.
sung to sleep
by the various
choices; lulled awake by
auto-pilot actions,--
i am a grievance unto myself
and it's this truth that opens
a multitude of worlds to me.
happiness is a warm slum
where all the villagers huddle
by the fire, and speak of good
old days gone by.
they shall come again,
and again. joy gleaming
with viciousness, pouring
out each pupil as though
it were a lullaby searching
for the ear of a newborn.
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 1:27 AM UTC
There are times when I'm afraid
to ask you questions I know the answers to;
afraid of the night rearing
it's heavy ***** as though it
were something I needed
not something I begged
for when I was at my lowest
(and would soon regret after)
There are days when you're
sound asleep; like a balloon
living on borrowed
oxygen
Laying on your side
your eyes flicker
on and off;
taking in the AM
particles, eyelashes
that sweep dreams
back and forth
back and forth
until the dusk
smothers you in
promising scenes
There are times when I am
grateful I get to hear your
voice at the end of the razor-wire
and wonder, (because
wondering brings me
back to a childlike
presence)
if it's really you
that I love and appreciate,
or if it's just a dream
that continues to blanket
me in it's infinite ardor.
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 2:02 AM UTC
I could be in bed right now.
Under the sheets where it's safe;
like the tongue resting firmly
between teeth; presumably
the gaping mouth of
a banshee.
I could call it an early night.
Dream of you, and the
effervescent hell
betwixt those thighs.
I could do
many things;
and yet, it still
would not suffice.
It's safe to say,
'coulds' should
be deleted from
my lexicon.
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 1:34 AM UTC
******
I forgot to tell you goodnight
I was too tired to open my mouth
too exhausted to form a thought
but many thoughts came on later
that evening; I was worried
you might get angry with my
silence
secretly harbor resentment;
retire to your dreamland
and keep me outside
the pearly white fences;
I'd whimper to come back in;
and I'm sure
you'd hesitate
(like you always do)
before unlocking the gate
and welcoming me
into your garden of good graces.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 1:52 AM UTC
Something tells me
you never questioned
whether or not
you have a soul
resting beneath
that blanket of
thick, moist flesh
You see, ma
never sang me
a lullaby to sleep,
and now I rest with
weary bones
and crooked teeth
as though they were
toy soldiers
marching down
the streets of a ghost town
an army of woes
and sorrows stacked
so high, you'd think
the aches were
some sort of skyrise
And on, and on
the trembles speak
shaking what was never known
but could be known
if one only
went through the proper channels.
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 1:32 AM UTC