Sweet and salty kettlecorn shrapnel
Scatters a falsely ocean-colored carpetscape;
Heavy corn casualties at 0100 over Indianan waters.
I could dive through
One of the murky stains and
Chip the rest of my fingernails
Along the portal away from persecution.
At least I'm not biting them from fear,
But fingernails should hold their
**** keratin when
You're trying to wind each neural pathway
Back to where they were six months ago.
I'll try to scrape as much oddness out
As I can with these jagged edges
And consume sweet and salt
In my scattered, corn-filled ocean mirage.
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 4:01 PM UTC
Faded pink petals lift
From my eyes,
Swirling the air and
Wafting peonies
Through my skin.
Ethereal citrus blossoms comb
My rumbling waves,
Gently intertwined with
Your heartbeat.
Your smile
Embroiders light along my skin,
Draped around my hips and shoulders,
********** darkness
From my side.
Every ice and umber pigment in
Your eyes,
Cashmere ripple of
Your touch,
And tender brushstroke of
Your voice
Paint me home.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 1:21 PM UTC
Squint.
My gaze traces the aluminum falcon's trail;
I catch it blink me out of existence.
Breathe.
Rotting flesh lingers in the humid air.
The natives are accustomed,
But my lungs repulse it.
Silence.
The inmates file into their brick asylums--
Not required, but exiled forever if they don't.
Bite, Chew, Swallow.
Trays of fat steam in rows--
Replenishes inmates for daily duties.
Salt seasons but my soul.
Soak.
Loneliness bathes me as
The Simulation infects others.
I am Blind, Deaf, Numb
To the mildewed hospitality of their "home."
Shackled to the bubble of my Exile,
I work within the Devil's reign,
Floating, waiting
Till I reach the edge and
Burst.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 12:54 PM UTC
The damask-tipped needle
Gently glides past the marker
Of a time to which none will return,
Trapped in a
Carved mahogany tower which
Encases our memories of
Needles and gliding
In one-way glass.
This divine, embezzled box
Torturously mocks our lives,
But if not for this cruel mirage,
How would we know where the
Time goes?
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 12:35 PM UTC
No Brain,
No Headache.
No Brain,
No Knowledge.
No Brain,
No Fear.
No Brain,
No Brain.
No Brain,
No Nothing.
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
Delicate flowerettes spine
From your prosperous branches,
The lively twigs
Which may become
Only a snap
Under one's foot.
You hold generations
In your rings,
Yet you hide your knowledge
Beneath bark,
Knots, sap, and
Silence.
You graze taller heights
Than I,
Soaking in the massive life
Surrounding from above,
Yet I treat you like
An enemy.
You deserve better,
For this symbiotic relationship
Has turned toxic,
And only I am
To blame.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 8:24 PM UTC
Do you want this pain?
No.
Do you want to be you?
Yes.
Which matters more?
I don't know.
So, what are you going to do?
I. Don't. Know.
So, now you have no pain?
Yeah...
What's next?
The chicken or the egg?
No, who are you?
Am I the chicken or the egg?
You tell Me.
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
When the world became absurd,
I never viewed it the same.
My body is just
My brain;
My brain is just
A thing
In a world of things.
Before I became conscious,
I only existed.
When everything is important,
Nothing is real.
Lies become cruel truths
At the site of
Consciousness.
What rises to matter is nothing--
In a sense:
If you accept the absurd world
For what it is,
You can make
Anything real.
Decide what makes
You happy,
What makes you
Love,
And embrace it.
We have to make our lives
Mean something,
Or they never will.
So, love everything but nothing,
And make your
Absurd world
Real.
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 8:58 PM UTC
The hills,
Dusted with motherly oak trees
And invasive weeds,
Roll beneath my feet
Until they sink into the
Depths of the shimmering bay.
The gracious murmurs of the waves
Caress the sweet land I love while
Spreading outward till my vision can't
Encapsulate it.
I transport into its glittering kingdom
For as long as my moment lasts.
I blink back to my stake atop my hills,
Gazing over the expanse of my home
As if through a portal of the
Map I authored
Or which authored me.
With the cool breeze in the
Golden-streaked clouds
Against a darkening sky,
I watch my home melt away
Into a new beginning.
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 12:53 PM UTC
8 months
of my childhood remain;
of laughter,
protection,
and little to no pain.
8 months
of the lovely life I've known;
of carelessness,
carefulness,
and the honest love that's grown.
8 months
till I trial a new profile;
till my life becomes a mess,
I think it's for the best,
and I simply pretend to smile.
8 months
till I leave it all behind;
till I only see strange faces,
drown in fear of changes,
and slowly lose my mind.
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 1:54 PM UTC