the behemmoth distracted misanthropic lens falls wayside for a moment, i saw you beautiful in frail light as it dimmed to a dullards thoughts again, you could never catch that distracted wandering thought, never put your finger on the distant far cornered cry, bewildered you wept for it, still a blind beggar in a land of evil seers. one morning you awoke unshackled and having a drunkards clarity you spoke, but you spoke too soon, no one heard you and no one cared.
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 5:23 PM UTC
feels like trains whistles and that old stink of forgotten byways, sometimes it itches. sticks in your teeth and takes up residense, peculier needs, we laugh, though we know truth, how it irks and twindles. finds euphonisms and weepy sleeps, murky bound delusion, disillusioned quandary, early morning waifs, always abundantly clear.gotta get home., as the parlance goes';'to mine"
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 2:12 AM UTC
the year was 20 11, and there was pretty angst, it floated and lingered in the air like cigarette smoke in the winter, of course we ignored its insistence, still the rumbling was amongst the least of the peculiars. i said, momentarily it stopped as easy as it had become, i wrenched, things were not changhing hands. we faltered again into obedience.
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
i doubt the impossibilty of attention, words fall thru the cracks of easiness, and melt in the thighs of lack luster gorgeous caverns.
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
time. is on my side. yes. it is. i have an unfortunately great recall. supose all you people are there, and you know what i know, then you scream like mongrels in outerspace, how can i absolve thee? lest we best ourselves like animals, i will not record the absolute strife of existence, pleasant though, the valleys stalk, the familar ground is weak, how can it be so miscontrived and willingly wrong? tangent. tangerines? i hope that maybe i am not speaking alone. or you are ********* hair, and thinking of me.
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
To blame her all would be a lie. As I spit blood back into this cup that is mine. Dispelled countenance swells discord amongst the woven machina.
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC
The folly of youth and time wasted. How I would run down the halls of my past and bleed the corpses of yesterday. A chance to feel pure once again, thou I never did at all. We waste the present with abandon and never consider the challenge of tomorrow, until it's far to late. Still there are flowers that bloom, women that wither, and people that take themselves to hell screaming the woes of beauty found in a self imposed mediocrity. ~a.c.
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 3:18 PM UTC
A year ago still seems like yesterday. how precarious this existence, as we float through this life never knowing which direction the currents will take us. You look around and recognize nothing and wonder how it happened that you are so lost. The anchors gave way and you drift meaninglessly and mercilessly. Struggling to find a way back to where you belong, realizing that the ocean is vast and indifferent to the desperate beating of your arms against the cold blackness of its waters.
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC
She made me want to tear my eyes out. Burn myself in the streets in effigy to her beauty. I was left beaten and broken after 5 years of love. The mornings are as unbearable as the screeching of a child you cannot comfort. But lo, did I not know of the contempt in heart for me. How a person could feign affection for so long and to what end. There is no putting these broken lives back together. In a far away land I sweat profusely without the comfort of a friend as tear ducts become dried up lake beds. New horrors await and children grow up far to quick. What lessons did you learn?, tell me one day when you look back and wonder about the ghosts you left in your wake. Promises evaporate in this stifling heat, remember that person stole more than your heart. Irrevocable is the course and distraught is the compass. Fascinating speed of change as compared to the dull minutes that constitute an existence without love. Bloated are the content ones, merrily do they become sloths and gluttons with undeserved love and loyalty. Skeletons they make out of the discarded, drained corporeal beings. So with a glance we can discern what should have been and what will never be.
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 1:05 PM UTC
In the small desperate hours just before dawn, I wait there, amongst the fading memories and shadows. Doleful and tired I find no rest within or without. Strange revelations flitter in mind pulling me away from the last significance of the day. I never recall the moment I fall into sleep as I awake to remain, always looking for the next evening and a peaceful nights rest. So it goes each day until one day it won't.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC