Put me down to desiccate.
My mind
My body
My inveterate vision.
Fragmentary, ornamental,
desirous smiles
adorn my face
And separate once I swallow them,
where then,
they play inside my head
and disperse to deluge into fumes of
blues and violent reds
where condors convene and condone the nature of my agony,
which they burn straight on through
then train new thoughts to thirst for more.
Stuck with a mind so full of
contortionist thoughts,
containing the notions of submerging illusions, luring me away from veracity,
into anticipating rapture.
Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 3:52 PM UTC
Frustrated and outdated.
My acts are getting old, I’m told.
I’m told to fold my own fowl acts
And turn them into gold.
Golden scrolls that roll up past
And open up to brand new ways.
Days to come, I still may fray,
But carry on I must.
I would trade today for days
Which open up to blooms.
Blooms of new, and fumigating,
nothing but the truth and beaut.
Dec 31, 2019
Dec 31, 2019 at 4:43 PM UTC
Wars rage in my skull
I’m enraged and unfed
Constantly fleeing my debts of death and unsaid
I can’t make bets that they’re right, because they’re always right
They’re all definitely right
They’re shaken with fright
From the blight of my actions
All they ever wanted, Was to offer me gold,
Which percolated from deep within the cracks of their palms that were held wide open
They dressed in all white, while I dressed all black.
My insides are black and my eyes are magenta
You would never believe that my head has it’s own detailed corrigenda
And believe it or not, this whole time, my agenda,
Was only ever to retrieve an achievement of bliss.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 5:48 AM UTC
There’s a picture of you that used to be on my mirror.
It always fell off of my mirror about once or twice a month.
You were once my second mother.
Yet, I question if this was a sign of a second chance.
A reminder to not be how you were.
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 10:52 AM UTC
You follow your own book and it’s thick,
But it bores me,
Because I’ve read it a thousand times
And I don’t care much for the literature
It sickens me.
How you are.
How you read.
How you converse.
How you fight.
********* how you talk..
How you are.
I like how you are.
I love you.
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 6:42 PM UTC
You melt in the moonlight
And cower in the sun light
Your eyes are preoccupied with dim light, which occupies nothing, but rooms paraded full of shadows and dank faces.
which dance around the bed of your skull
I’m standing in the sunlight,
Yet I test best in the moonlight
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 3:24 PM UTC
I can only view violet right now
Violet to me, equals a quiet storm composed of beauty and friction from beneath the floorboards of an empty house
I’m floored, yet, I’m relishing in myself
I’m an indulgent relic of a being so full
I can be null, but I’m impassioned
I’m falling between the seams of a sidewalk some days
The seams of things I attempt to rectify and reconstruct
While falling in between the branches of an evergreen, time moves fast and clusters into a dust storm configured of my own guts and ideas untouched
Life continues to move on without us
There’s no basis to stop
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
Exploring the back of the woods never felt so good until you were gone.
Because there was so much more beauty further back where I couldn’t see.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC