How many centuries have we spent now,
bent down?
Brown mud caking these
brittle knees.
Unmade in the eyes of a perfect being,
and he won’t die,
and lie in that grave with the others.
His forgotten brothers.

A welcome emaciated mass of sun bleached death.
Tossed without ceremony left to be lost like the rest.
Frail and undone when the cleansing light sends its test.
Pale and empty of substance when exposed.
Set to rest and decompose.
And we’re unimpressed.

These hypnotized liars walk lines along cliff edges.
Lost in their mind because those before them said it.
Handed a song, ages old, told to walk in faith alone.
On the precipice dancing on the edge, but they forget it.

Stone erodes and poses pressing tones below
Stressing more and more the floor supporting guests, upon depressing roads.
Paths corrode as cracks along the edge show
growing tortured gravel patches,
bound to pour out scores,
when rainfall carries
laughing dancers to the bones.

We’re fed up, jaded, and broken,
so let us take a moment.
Leave the solemn words
we’ve spoken on the graves.
Turn the token cliche prose
we lay on corpses into social currency for future days when those who question us impose an accusation;

“Why didn’t you help”
“By myself?” replies the bystander
Surprised to find the eyes
of a man turned squarely into his,
with tears colliding with his hand,
as fingers press into his eyes again.

“You watched as masses shielded vision and passed
Not but an inch from within the wind of your breath
Without so much as a whispering bid for reason.

You laughed in the ignorant faces of men and women perceiving yourself apart, or above, and seeded in yourself a pride that grew out into treason.

Leaving your fellow man unbreathing now.
Hallow and bleeding out.
Just like the fallen deities you love to mock so ******* much.

Mock them when they pray too hard but stay just as blind as they are because not speaking is just as awful as appalling preaching and you know such”

The bystander feels
Shaking ground, though metaphoric ground this time,
below his euphoric purpose driven apathy.

“This is how it has to be”
He pleads. Recedes into himself and pleas for respite.
Left to wrestle his own fears of king or despot selling wishful vials of lies to those, without the question in their mind to test it.

“They won’t listen. Days go missing in their heads consumed with blissful ways.
They chase the wisdom
Fray the threads of truth to suit the pictures kissed with wishes for filtered existence away from criticism and pray for a view assuring their faith stays”

Before the next reply could pour out The
Depths retort a horrid sound that cuts the air
and ground, denies the sordid pair their discourse,
and sorts them with the rest of who’s around,
with waves of death abound.

The recently brittle mountain
with what decent little strength had been reserved,
turned temples into rubble descending caverns and burning up. The lessons lost and briefly learned, before the the fall,
were all but echoes in the minds of the dancers who returned,
to spurn the non believers who couldn’t use their faith and find lessons to be discerned.

“Heed not the words of heretics.
Fear not the shrinking mountain.
This lack of faith produces bile that strives to pollute our drinking fountain.
Search within yourself to find a mind that lends its self to sway.
Allow these soothing songs
of ours to heal and wash the pain away.”

And they will.

I just wanna be alone
To feel silence to my bones
To sit and soak in solitude from all of you and turn to stone
To walk home and lose all of what I’ve known

Relish the selfish urge to purge the hurt
shelve this drone of words learned to cope under burdens spoke from our hopes into existence

A frame we placed to filter days from pain we tried to hide but blissful wishes died when those viscous lips of irony kissed us.

And watched reality twist us

So I need a minute
Forgive me or don’t
I see the judges gaze flare but I won’t dwell in it
I’ll be a ghost

Wrecked in the specter
Sector
Costumes tossed to the soul inspector
Lost forever on the road to a goal we expected to erode following cold sweat dreams deemed detrimental to the airships failing fuel injector

Time to get vague I think
Fly through the page and sink,
softly off the couch into the floor
to watch the ceiling fan pour air over a man
Lying but standing alone
Prone but brandishing
Handfuls of stones to throw

Stolen WiFi can’t repair
Windows to the life I knew
When the wind blows remnants Of a drive by through
To consume my attention with mistakes I made but hesitate to mention over this tie dye brew

This mix in my cup sticks to my gut and fails to repair the limp in my strut
I’m careful with the innocent buzz built to bury regret and I’m not even drunk yet so kiss my ****.

If you give me long enough
I could paint a vivid portrait of myself
with every blemish and pore behind a brush,
and hush the voices that would criticize
unsubscribe and dance it up over in wonderland with the sycophants

put on my bedazzled pants
let the local singles know I'm a dancer
just a beating heart away
From being another square upon a lattice
a writhing mass of hair gel
and cologne working up the ladder to fuckboi status

Imma walk the line between
a marble arch eclipsing the sun
over an angel statue kneeling in prayer

and a black leather boot clad
bad *** with bad habits
but he's so cool he doesn't care

Look at him go
all on his own
with only a thousand or so, little paintings  
that are equally as photo shopped or filtered
just floating around waiting to see the show
and letting other people know they liked it
or not

What a spectacle destined
to leave us senseless and restless
what a test of the patience to be a slave to the masses
to see my juxtaposition against the rest of the best of us
and think "I should go with clever with glasses."

What a brutal twist of civilized life
to have an AI made for driving my car
so I can shimmy down and sneak another **** pic
THROUGH SPACE, to some guy who works at taco bell's wife
Laura something or something

I'm so social
What a medium,
Exchanging ideas,
and hunting body heat from out of the ether,
to have the pleasing distortion
of the speakers
drowning out all the wearisome noise
of our contortions

"You gotta learn to love yourself"
She says, and posts another photo
buried somewhere under 60 layers
of dog noses and rainbows, and angel wings

Oh **** this isn't boyfriend material let me change some things

-
You don't ever need to change girl,
there ain't anything, in this world
That I wouldn't do, to be with you.

And the Brief exchanges we had,
didn't reveal any red flags,
that I am willing to skip on *** over.

So somewhere down the line,
when the filters start to fade,
we'll just kick that can down the road,
and neither of us will change.

And the picture's that we painted of our Love
will degrade.

You've been offline for 16 minutes
I could have said it, but I didn't
I had it written, but I didn't send it
I'm kind of a coward, I'll admit it.

I couldn't fit it in a space that I thought you would read
I had a tendency to ramble when you listened
or pretended, and in the poems that you've never seen
it's just as bad,
I go careening through a bending path of bramble
tryna scramble to the point
but I lost you
neck deep in the prose that arose
around a metaphor packed to the brim
with condescending tid bits
where I use your words against you
but a heavy weight that sits
over it all, when I lost the only friend I can talk to

so let me spend the next half hour
showering over you
another lesson in epistemology
honestly I don't know how you could be
so dim to miss what I've put in to this

Do you not see how wrong you are

Does it bother you
To have every miss step
pounced on and deconstructed
I was talking down
just to knock it through your thick head
but I guess I ****** it
I'll just have to say it angrier now

Let me spend the next two months convincing you
whatever you had seen in me was through a lens
I didn't deserve to be seen through
All it took was losing you to see
I'm exactly where I should have ended up

I know that no apology
will unwind the web I spun. the web I sit on now
to watch what I've undone with my own hands.
Hands that even now subside in fear
of what I'd hear then in your voice
when you reply
to let it die

So I'll let it die
I'm sorry

Kyra, Dad's got some paper and pens
and that's it
A cup of tea at 1am'll
push him just a little bit further
to finish all of his scrawl
about the things in the world you deserve
and how he'll go get it all

He'll push the pen to the page
at an age that you can't read or write
But it's more about holding himself accountable
to the crawling days

and if your smile stays
at least he'll know he did some things right

By the time you read this
you'll be learning how to doggy paddle
Through swimming pools full of stuffed animals, on tuesdays
And on days that start with "S"
You'll be air lifted in a fairy costume
to the civic center
so we can see the what's it's on Ice

And i promise I'll stop smoking

and at night you'll have a team of interpretive dancers
teaching you and your 9 ponies the classics
in a better way than I can tell em...cuz I have this whole monotone thing...that I do

But I'll be there the whole time
to try to fight back the impulse I feel
to steer for you on every step, and miss step
Because I know you won't forever need me here
You been the freest spirit, since the day we first met.

And if you're reading this and I'm bald
maybe take it easy on me....I'm pretty sensitive about it.

By the time you read this,
I'll have put the work I needed in
to pay whatever school to teach you everything you wanna know

and I promise I'll quit smoking
and I promise I'l never make you feel like less than everything to me

and though your father may have been a failure when he found you
The sparks that you emitted through his heart that night,
with fingers wrapped around his thumb,
erupted seas of roaring flame around his very soul
bolstering a furnace to replace the heart you stole
the foundry drove his will that night
and has done ever since,
even when all he does have
is paper and some pens.

My Monday morning walk into the door’ll
manifest a girl who has me questioning any aforementioned morals

Watch her wiggle past,
her little figure sending ripples through the store
catching eyes with simple gestures she won’t think about

Core shaken
Mind taken just before
I can collect and reset
Keep my cool and restore
The composure I project
Refuse to let the shallow
Sections of my thoughts
Invade and settle over
Work I should be doing
to ***

I know it’s ******* to portray poetic images of depth within myself
While at the same time
I pine over the darling like a Barbie on a shelf
Because I barely said a word to her

Before in my mind I undressed and ******* her

And it’s lines like that
Flaring through to self awareness
when they hit the page
Caging what I say in hallow careless little quips about how much of myself that I’m embarrassed
That leave me ill prepared to change cuz I can’t bare it
And she’s a carrot on a stick I guess
I’ll parrot my stresses to myself and bury it
Let the sensations arising
Around the new addition dull or deplete when testing
Her personality shows she likes to eat babies or listen to future or something equally detesting.

But **** new chicks got a nice ***
Which I’m sure she’s never heard and wants to hear
From me or strangers when they see her
To watch her steer is just confusing
Like... How the hell do you stand is all I’m saying
Clearly your center of gravity
Has to be six inches further back than the average mans
But I digress again
All I wanna say is I'm not an awful person
At least I don't think.
I think I need a drink.

Let's play infinity.

Let's say this isn't enough,

this lesson in rough you've given me.

Let's say I stay for you

Rain affection and love
to be left in the dust, and withering.

Trust that the lust for eternity,
burdening you,
doesn't weigh this impatient delivery

Trust in the pain
as a product of growth.

Know that if I say "No"
that makes me an enemy.

But I know what I know.

Birds won't fly, where the seed won't grow.

Hurt this time, I return, to receive
a return to reprise, and a look in your eye.
You know.

We burned out slow.

We'll turn out fine
at the end of the show.

I'll just go
I'll hope you write every line
in the life that I want you to know,

and I'll write my little litany.
No love lost into infinity.

I'll just go.

I'll just go.