Some children wondered why the grass is green
or the sky blue
Well, I wondered why your touch was made of ice
I learned of gravity and the f word
and decided
your presence felt like ******* free fall
You say you've changed
I know you have
but your kindness
still turns sour in my mouth
I want to love you
but how can I?
When I accidentally wiped your poison kisses
with the same sleeve I wore my heart on
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
Hate is a coiling gust of air seeking it's way out
Apathy sags,
murky and cold
in complacent instinct.
While hate can be tofu to a child expecting sweets,
apathy is nothing but the silent flickering of a neon vacancy sign.
Hate is bottled
yet bursting.
Apathy is free,
but sedentary.
Hate is muscular
it shouts and threatens
while the other beckons,
just to push you away.
One: lava fit into a mold.
Two: so hot it becomes cold.
Hate is the fire
and apathy the barren field of ash
from which no phoenix shall rise.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 1:22 PM UTC
i've got feelings in the freezer
stored, saran-wrapped, tin-foiled
abuse
so when emptiness feels like starving
i microwave some pain
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 6:33 PM UTC
We were fugitives tonight.
Fugitives
of light;
The blink of a window
drawing naught but dusk.
We grind against fate,
crossed our fingers and flew
from what we are, were-- might be.
Closed the peak whole
lest it should dawn
and glid doomed,
to some place nice.
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 3:33 PM UTC
Sunlight reaches your eyes,
to flicker,
forever rest or die.
Your air is of dandelion dreams
whispered in the distant past.
All smudged into
a dusty closet where they
roam endlessly.
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 6:43 PM UTC
Most times,
I live on the pause;
the lingering,
between what you say,
and what I hear.
The livid moment of incessant
existence when I take from life,
the meaning within moments.
The weight of a second, drawn
like blood,
from the bare atmosphere.
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
Life sips.
This doomed, draught of time.
I watch
languid metal absorb and rust,
wood swell in bloated pride.
As my carnose existence
dusts under its sapped burden
of scaly skin and arid tongue.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 2:18 PM UTC
Time flies little girl,
but now away to bed.
Look at the sky and all the lights,
it all lies ahead.
Time flies! Little Girl
but now away to bed
see how it moves and shifts and tunes—
you better hurry up.
Life flies,
Little Girl no more.
The stars, they shine. But
your shine is looking dull.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
The sympathizer is the barrel of a gun
and it goes off.
Amongst bloated company
And hues of laughter
Amongst amiable stares and
fraudulent applause.
It beams socially the very instant
before mayhem falls
and in packs of cordial mirth,
it grows in courage,
menacing enough to stare directly at a dead man.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
Girl,
in my head
pretend cranes hover
over our heads
ready to take us
to the sky.
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC