Tech tonics and honesty following repeated offerings to beings I don't think, think that I belong anymore.
Not that it bothers me I'm used to feeding apologies to cretins who'd like to think they walk on water
I dropped the scene along with anyone I met that shed a tear or was met with fear at the thought of me in harm I think
I can't love again
And what's worse is that you couldn't care less
I'm not a monster, but you treated me just like the ones in your head, yet I told you things to doubt when you never should've
You had no business saying you loved me in the first
I fell after, I can't handle my emotions, thoughts, I've lost my confidence and I don't care enough to get it back.
Your now engaged to a guy you introduced me to. *******.
I wish I could even hate you, but I only hate myself. WHY.
I wish for death, or destruction, or cataclysm, or flood, or plague
I'm an empty vessel, ready to become
Undone.
Hooray.

Today is wasted
Not like the others, it
Seems to have a revolution of it's own
Yet, the scent remains the same.

These muscles exude the sangria colored
Muck, these layers of filth jet out like lined walls of a prison cell.
Oh why do they retain this scent.

This cube of cubes I reside in
Where art thou mine Calypso,
How darest thou give teachings
As if your tragedy can give thoughts to we golems of rust.

Stick to staying stuck
Until these brittle cages carry no more
This gluttonous weight
Will we be songbirds once
More.

Start with the breath,
Shaky lately, it changed with the stains a painting formed on my chest came leaking, sneaking black bubbling death
It foamed up towards the roof of my vest,
Cough is hoarse excuse me my poorly conveying the truth I confess that maybe I've trained my brain to ignore the distress culminating the gruesome express

Eyesight now, and my Eye's feel numb
Two flocks fly in the light of the sun, side by side in a sign like a gun that stops my stride in time with the young, I wonder why and who had time to train these geese to write ******* W's alright, soon it fades from mind a two days wait until it's time to light up the night blunt try somma my cut the line trust is high up sigh at thoughts thought in my mind fuzz fought climb up bought thine scuffle what ******* geese fly in V's I'm blind cuz.

Minds in circles my muscles in decay my brain can't keep track of the ******* days
I'd buy the parcel from hovels of dismay trade for ants to keep mortality at bay
I'm afraid I wished for death too often, it waits till I'm content to grant it's bubbles while I'm coughin.

Waiting on the elevator
For my day of labor
Instant gratification after
Days of waiting safer
Now we talk in secret
Spaces craving the others
Flavor of disgust leaving
Rust in my joints and bones
Masochistic I remember
Pain has always been my
Home.

Under gaia, through brimstone and fire
I climb below the rocky crops to spot my autumn perch
It glows like my desires owned up to it
This nightly throne I casually moan too
Light this cancer upon my lips
Whisper across the river styx
Best wishes to the mistress Nyx
I knock the vase containing complacent behavior lately sating saintly savior traipsing take your aimless face and waive wasted tainted flavor away from me.
I've not a taste for thee,
anymore.

I don't understand, but your tone incites.
Is this ignorance or bravado
Is love and hate the same when the day of fated relations stays mocking on the morrow
Are the planted dead standard
Pentagram repenting it's whistles to the waifs
Who captivates plenty yet scrape for their dinner pennies like dog scraps.
Why am I still beneath this lake?

From across the waters of sky and sea, a quest for fire remains.
Contained by borders Zues & Posiedon laugh at this homonculus
What are signs set by stars
division and duality
Smoke drifts from mouth and fingertips as once again the beast howls at the juxtaposing light.
Why then do these walls whisper
Tenderly,
"Burn me down,"
"You've suffered us enough,"
"Nothing worth doing was ever easy,"
"Divinity is given to those willing to drown."
Frown turns to grit turns to Grin turns to me and I give my word of agreement.
"Please."

Black lines drip down this canvas
Of blue tinged white like fallen snow
I know it's grown colder so this
Feeling of surprise climbs without reason
Like finding santa's presents this season

This cold feels warm somehow
My body and mind disagree
Viewing my hairs stand in memory of freezing winds, changing a tire in sleeting weather, but all I remember is laying on the floor fireside with my familiar.

How could I ever stand the sight,
Of myself unable to stand the sight of you?
Moonlight, oh, how it glistens across
this dew mixed sweat caressing this
liquid-like glaze your devilish form shakes I'm taken aback, simply taken with you.
Her beauty poetically contrasts with
Sounds of silent gasps
Then laughing.

Growth when perceiving reduction of this
Subjective reality

Proportionate somehow
This fraction of interest
doubled over, delighted expression,
This pain, It's strange, gaining more daily, gradually making it safely now seeing these states of gluttonous need faked I'm convinced at times, just enough to slake this need to rake my teeming heart that never falters in initiating every question posed to the legions of potential mates inevitably lost to leave for alternate reasons, and this I hate, when I held high my honest hope, mistaken, they take their leave, aggreiving the instant infatuation with promises honestly got me weak. I think these signs we keep seeing probably lead to an intimate need to ache and breathe, shake and feed, take and dream, play and she may relay the same objective, seeking each other, perhaps others, but now it's late, each thinking this meeting be fated and a moment is traded to thank whomever it was that took interest enough in training them up to stay up later still waiting to feel this hour of love.
And I hate it. Calmly. I take my bait, self-made inspired by naive aspirations that break apart the deluded frame containing the film of fabricated promises and convincing arguments continuing incessant untill I agre and stitch a phrase to fit the stage that I would raise the question. Time drags with flirtatious passes until a consice and clever cacaphony of my creation suits the situation. I glowed with vanity, shades of possibility danced round the vial that contained this daring question sleeping ragged, beating haggard at my breath screeching at the little caution briefly holding back this ******* secret. This one last moment I needed to just enjoy the sound we weaved together laughing, speaking, secrets. I have known, for hours now, since we chanced along the streets, a crashing cliche that callously created the juncture of our meeting. Since she her eyes agreed with mine to enjoy the others company. I fortold my hopeful nature would incite my thoughts to somehow agree tonight the longest streak of recieved rejections in history, believed to be held by Mr. Perry, ten years now and SHE might be the key to leaving this sea of seeking, I must be drinking, but no, I speak to her my saliscious line, visciously timed and know  the circumstances still provide the newest addition to the bottomless list.
I take heart I can still feel new wounds.
Hope has ran, and this plan ends like the rest,
With his children, Pain and Melancholy, to visit me in the drain, and laugh, and sing, and talk of many things. Pain insists she see's my heart is one which strains to bear this tyrants cruel command to supply him 'care' unending, unblemished, pure. Unheard of amounts comparable to the stars, sea particles, ****.
Carelessly caring too much without any reason, without explanation, expectation, or thinking is a pleasant reprieve to those who need help and those would be thieves.
You're careless in caring, which is a great way to practice exploring this life and developing habits. It will not help when you're faced with choices that require you know the depths of importance.

Melancholy hummed this quietly, a somber sweet melody that trickled down with  wisdom pain brings. Together we three sat aside the doubt that infects all the newly rejected courageous freaks with hopeful hearts discarded like heartfelt high school letters, or ghosts that haunt my messages. If they give their word to be assured they feel nothing by her answer, they will lie to numb themselves and save face and and race find the shelf that held the help of hell and helmed a night of excitement and debauchery, swept through the thoughtless black sea did he forget the answer she gave to he, and so his shoes took him three miles across to repeat the previous procession he planned and then forgot. She said yes that time, and kept the forgotten memory secret.

too quickly respect, or thank, or hear the drifting voice  

I will cling to my belief it will be worth it


For I will bleed for my love.
Tough mutts sputter and gates shut up discreetly along the pavement I travel.
Bending screaming dark and hollow seems unneeding to creeps who feed on that kind of thing.
You know the type.
You know I know how you like to play them. Create the clones to discard after rehearsal. probable reactive laughing mad at tragic accidents sadistic mastiffs attack and ravage and tear and
Sadness.
The fictitious movies play out onto the skyscape of this mind we share, and attempt accepting the last thing you truly fear.

Cleanse, this gift I collect
Taken shameless
Hidden from the rain
Let these candles burn around it
Surrounding fires sactify the area
But never are shadows cast from the flames
Touch not the cell that holds it now
The grey dissolved illumination of this cloudy sky pries the light apart like moonlight in the day.
Tonight when her eye has opened wide to view the site I provide her
My goddess stretches across the altar
A blessing does not falter.

Easy will I give blood to thee
My love of anger simmering.

Tough mutts and breezy gates shut up while I'm walking up the paved path to heaven.
My shadows carve depictions of their home across it's border, until the time that obliteration comes preceding daylight.
Presently, the senses tell stories of alleyways, bending, screaming, dark, and hollow niches where cells holding cretins feeding on easy cons, closely eyeing the greasy pawns that wobble across rotting paper, voodoo art a secret guarded closely hidden in the hole a beating heart long ago vacated. Robbing rich snobbish ****** their childrens life of ignorance concerning newfound addictions.
You know the type.
You know that I know you too, and how you prefer to shape the ghastly forms these predators take, turn them into your thralls discarded soon after rehearsing the parts of your play, writtin precisely to incite your own addiction to probability gamble gaming intuition. trashing skits naturally reactive to exhibited patterns laughing mad at the victms thrashing quiver, stashing films of the accidents in your pack to gift the sadistic mastiffs  attack and ravage and tear and
Sadness.
The fictitious movies play out onto the skyscape of this mind we share, and attempt to accept the last thing you truly fear.

"It's just blood"
They said passing the freshly glistened reddish iron tungsten blade as if it were a joint
And I took it.
Puff puff pass.
Now I puff alone for things I cannot exempt from being my own, problems, past

Yet I feed them everyday in hopes I end up drowning in the refuse

I tolerate as much as I despise.
yet I see me drinking by myself so much more frequently after pledging allegiance to my recovery, yet,
I've never allowed myself to recieve accolades under the influence.
So, why shouldn't I observe those medals of silver and bronze without dismissal: due to performance enhancement.
Isn't society run on caffeine?

I hope these demons like heavens door whiskey.

Her curiousity calls, my interest stolen
A spirit about her face, when she, seeing
This wonderlust, inescapable, mine,
Yet temporary, as is this.

She emanates a significance,
I can't
resist escaping my chrysalis.

Tasteless, the breath of polluted life I savor
But for a moment. This purest waste it's haste to be expelled back to the sheltered waters which I dwell. Safe now, it sifts back to rest complete amongst the volume I've employed, until I deem its time to feed and shelter with my form.

I float above the seaswept alleys, scrutinizing the bones below, my home, the city of apathy and ruin.
The displacement of my passage rends the ocean in its vastness cleanly. Silent echoes vexed and roiling against the vacant ruins now follow me like nascent hounds. Warily I scale the depths to assess the source of my intruige, and see the obscure sky that holds the gleaming fires of sunset atop it's surface.

"How long have I been here?"
I wonder, and begin to see my real self, sitting on the floor of a home. I feel the ocean and focus my will to observe what caught my interest.

Then sight beholden a paradox,
An encounter fate withheld to ensure
The prospect flounder in a grave I dug years before. The living dead, the myths of old, gods, demons, angels, magic. I found it odd, how deeply painful and tragic my choice to discard my hope for a mask.
No longer.

I am now captivated, yet not by her body,
Enthralled, yet not by her sophistication.
These marked her ardent spirit of royal eloquence, but the intense affirmation held within the emerald sockets that could stop  sense of self when our eye's crossed paths into the traps willingly sprung.

Ah, the fool I'd be to attempt conversing with just a whim, without consent, without intruige!

Then, a wink.

This invitation sent so soon, to someone gazing from another room
She waded to me, half a grin, wry & ****
Effectively stopping all pretense of conscious thought, Instinctually I prevented the dropping of my jaw, and stopped my brain from shutting off completely, or tried to anyways.
She was getting closer, steady pace,
[What should I do now? I'm drowning in my own self doubts. I'm unworthy, a clown in comparison! Maybe she thinks I'm someone else, I'll not allow myself to expect the unexpected route, at most I'm just a simple rebound. ]
This plague of thoughts continued down thinking how I could run away, but I hesitated, and it's too late.
A part of me tries to defer her play. Escape, and drift back beneath the salty waters of marshland behind my eyes, while hers stare deeply into them. My attempts to decline her company are ignored, and I'm stopped. She holds me quietly, the beauty of her eyes a spotlight guiding the search of my face for signs of compliance or defiance.
I'm lost now.
Lost in the eyes of a friend I needed years ago, eyes that match the wonder mine held. They peer through those that cross our path, without fear, or judgment, or expectation. Her golden orbs speak kindly, beautiful they are, and fierce. Her stare holds mine, and though nothing is said, we read the others expressions like two lost strangers, deaf and mute.
Unabashedly she studys the facets of my expression, admitting freely these feelings of intense attraction.
She gently tests the waters that bars my cage, she rests expertly sitting on the floor next to me. She glances up, so close to me now her expression a breathy question.
How long until I could accept her intentions? I feel the shackles release, she coaxed the key from my my captors, thieving crafter of my release. Embracing her comfort and pleasant breeze. I take hold of her arm, then bit her politely, delight shows as she pulled me further from my city of despairity.

Seas now far below, The water from my lungs exchanged, now I sit in this party on the floor with my love without a name. I clutch her hand and grasp her eyes, breathe in deeply the easy air she helped me find. We stand and head outside.

Now the night is brightly lit by the many eye's of Nyx. She watches us watching her content to guide us from afar

We stay quiet, talking with our eyes until arriving at the station, the parking lots border shops finding space to lay and gaze at the mosaic in the sky

Then begins speech unending.

Attention, on her it looks mesmerizing, she began training in the ways of climbing deftly,  then set her sights on the hermit keepers of inner self, squirreled away in the deepest craggy recesses of  their self-isolating depression.
Her gear, well worn yet sturdy, she traversed the labrynths of the soul effortlessly. Astonishing and

The sun, now soon to wake reminds me time is rife to take my soul to depths beneath the motionless sea of my making, while the sunlight in her eyes whispers promises of eternity.
To dream and dread together, weaving webs to shelter those truly free, hungry and helpless, yet gifted with sight to see past the momentary issues, issued to men who believe the promises of those who won't miss you.
People like me, perhaps.
I think.
I sink.
In secret, I flash my contempt for my leviathan below. Resting, waiting. It demands  me to remain and skulk the streets of spines that once belonged to me. I'm kept to entertain the formless ****** that slink like klepto's thoughout my fallen city of memories. It keeps them busy, and when they are I search the ripped seams of pockets in dreams. In them was hidden my stolen key, which without I've forgotten peace.

Beneath the waves I drink the salty brine, my lungs adjust to the viscous salt base liquid,
Above cold white-capped crests oscillate,
I'm tethered here. I admit these weights are present, and **** me if I won't accept it.

My simple mind. Behind these watching eyes dwells my sea, and before the serpent catches me again, I see the soft ember color of her eyes in the distance.

Ringing in the background.
It follows me around to announce itself
Uninvited, to fill the gaps of my distraction.
It reminds me of what I have yet to achieve
Yet I argue back my lack of energy
We settle on coffee.
Once a week or twice
I seek to bring about a daily change
That laughs in the face of painful reality.
So until it happens, I'll watch the grass
The wind the moon the goddess
Her welcoming my change.

Today I left behind
The life of leisure theater
The cast plead with me to remain seated
Convincing speeches that I want to believe
I'm not
Conceited to dream past these shutters
Couldn't see the greener grass past the plummet
Now I'm Three less leaches to feed over the weeked, peace friend I'm leaving to seek the me I believe sleeps far off into the future
And I can't wait to meet him.

****
I Hate this ****
Aggravated faith Vs. Masochistic taste
Seep and stains the screen I frame with
Weightless words, time taken to assure

The fake sincerity makes me sick.

A reactive phrasing fabricated naturally
Placating waves of faces waiting to for their turn to say 'I'm Running Late'.
Now games on with strange men who make friends that know me, who show off these women from craigslist like trophies, I see she's an A-list employee who enjoys the work and I start to sweat, she might break my heart but I call to check, she's on the way and I settle debts, then I'm done.

Insult to injury, my impulsive witchery, her careless fake name engagement doesn't conceal my betrayal felt.
Great lame dumb freight train stuck eight lanes of state strays search daily to entertain my ******* wife with *******. I'm done.

Last straw, I've had it, was this rom-com or tragic, papa don-jon in the attic telling me to leave it be and keep at it, but I'm numb, dumb and emphatic, my Jessica rabbit is long gone, her swan song a hat trick, **** that chick grew wings quick, cleaned out her **** like mary pip, packed and pomp she asked to sit, smile set smug, with a cigarrette to her lips, she exhaled and leaned in, I'm still confused about todays events when her voice spoke that final cent, it said
"I always win."

Truthfully, it's the last thing I remember, and then I wake up alone with some bottles of gin to the police brutally beating on my door, and my wife adorning the walls.

The pile of wood chips stack like the
Tower of babel from this concrete plane
The furnace hungers, ever patient for
******* blood
dripping cuts
Ripped up cufflinks that share the table
Every **** night.
Before attempted sleepless dreams keep this distance bearable by proxy.
I see your face when I wake up.
I see your face when I sleep.
I pray the days spin down quickly till I can see your face in person.
Until then I'll feed this furnace.

Imagine with me if you will
Not being able to imagine at all.
Trying but unable to tell
Why it is you feel so small.
It's hard to feel anything anymore
Voices shouting censorship and paranoia tumble over the walls of their abode and still like a broken record, refuse to admit their own shortcomings.
To never think of death, of guilt, of pain
They run ashamed and break the bridges that have crossed the empty pit, their concrete blown away, and why?
The roads of healthy living are martyred
The smiles of love are blotted out for the dark recesses privy to the wretches in their holes hiding from insight.
Imagine with me if you will, but Don't pretend it's not actually happening.

****** by 7
Circuitry sizzling now bless
My sight with fractals and
a misread message
A step withheld in my ongoing
Prosecution of the self resting
headless without a leg to
Stand up for myself when
I can't remember what I've
Dreamed this month, it's
Breaking across these mental
Walls, as far as the eye's can
Tell a story, and reveal as well as hide
From one's conjured enemies.
Shiver. These silver sided dice roll
Like the spies sent to hinder my
Will to save you. I will save you.
As I save myself. the last morsel
Of forged laurels.

Wouldn't it be nicer
To line or rim your eyes with diapers?
Then your face wouldn't wash away
Everytime I see you
Idealistic fool
It seems we were meant to be tools
And gardeners
But where has my doomed eden sunk
I'll look below Calypso
Next to Atlantis

The hellish everlight
Sell the entropy like longing
Right insight gives hope though selling
Quells unearthed eulogies loves lost since
Right and wrong  aren't perceived anymore

I itch.
Like ticks and fleas are covering me
Like insulation flows along the air I'm breathing shallow to cease this itch that craves release from my incessant will.
A warden then?
I've held to many in contempt to acknowledge the comparison.
Shed now blame to another less gluttonous soul my eyes prop up to hang.
This itch, I bear the weighted shackles, my pierced abdomen cries for any patch to fill it.
I refuse the temptation, becoming now a wanderer of egrigore. Watch this gore pour out this festering itch more now than ever since it's initial scritch and scratch
My path behind a tar black trapping
My road ahead not looking much better.

Hate you
I hate you
I hate you
I hate you
I hate you
I hate me
For hating
You.
So.
I hate.
And hate.
And despair.
And **** myself a bit faster.
I hate you.

Uphill rolling, the headless Oni butcher
Waving his arms, and the arms of others
Carving destructive burrows below
The walls of kindgdoms past.
Those fiery shafts of thought take flight
Bowls are gathered to make an offering
The stars above seek to shed new light
Because swords will not stop the thing.
The voices convince me to stand my ground
I pray they keep me safe and sound
Tartarus lacks motivation to claim the demon
I suppose
When I talk to the face I stole a thousand years ago.

He was not of this realm, but came anyway
Traveler of old and new, now here to stay
A wanderer, a peasant, a lullaby, a play
A ploy to garner good will and trade

He tricks the eyes of pompous fools
Who think themselves above the rules
He charms their coffers and pools
of gold to gaia's rightful purse

His hoard was never spoken of
His tricks were never found
And those he wished to tie lose ends
found dead and drowned.

He will make his way to you
Whether pompous or discreet
And should you be a proper fool
You'll gain his favorable treat

How fair was it to blue the steel
clarity could have won.
if not for Celsius's involvement?
Fahrenheit would brighten her blade, yet subtle the temper of rash and shade.
A time of second guessing to absolve the fatal ring, I time the wager to the crashing of stones assembled once again to hold
your hammer.
Their unnatural order,
yet cannot reclaim the zeal.
We talk and whisper in sorrow and/or regret, the passing of beauty astonished, fallen,
before the plummet of regret.

The absence of the leap
Repeats whn I fall asleep.

I am not a poet.
I am what I lack.
I am a scholar that doesn't read
Atleast the prose that you misinterpret.
I am not strong.
I am what I lack.
I put these daily burdens on my back
These ideas that break your bones.
I am a demon with no inclination,
Towards evil unless for myself.
I am what I lack.
These angelic guardians hold me close
While your demons tie you down.
I am apathetic
I am patient
I am death awaiting your final gesture
To the gods I am nothing
To man I am a riddle.
What am I?

Will me now to leap the narrow valley
Between these moments apart
Though if you commanded my collapse
I'd treasure my last sight of you

Are these scratches on my hand from my cat or a knife, or from catching the edge of a brick caught in mid-flight?
Will I remember the blood that dripped off my fingers to gently caress the paper walls, or will I find my hand split open again to replace the pain?
Are these dumb questions? I've heard there were none but right now I might drown in this lack of ability to distinguish what's really hacking the sytem.

Green is the skin I wear
I view the world behind its frames
This shirt I have is in a shade I don't like
But I wear it anyway
The shade I like is muddled, like the forest
It has a smell I swing my head to
Like music I imagine is from the fae
If they had something against the government
This aura I crave I have also come to hate
The subdued importance that stoners have
I've lived with this color sitting at my center
But now I have to adapt with my loss of innocence

You call yourself a king.
As negligent, and wild, and unacomplished.
Trigger vile thoughts of conquered monuments.
Don't pose jokes to take part in fake
Glory.
That which you know nothing
Despair petty one
Selfish one
Woeful one
Bathe in the fiery rapids of the river styx
Learn the lessons of the dead
As you are one with death already.
Be destroyed by all things
And be rebuilt

Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
Or the the tears shed
.
1¹

How does this taste?
Can we sense the extract mixing upon our tongues. These words that please, or dissuade, or lie.
I can.
How you must be tired, a fatigue I've never known. To listen and believe!
Yet the let down.
Always a let down.
Will I be another?
Will there be a drop of blood larger than our resolve to traverse it, will I make you sick with my promises of sweet flowers, will you recoil in disgust by an unknown factor, will we make it past this first hit placed on our mingled tongues?
I hope not, I hope so, I'm confused, this is too new, all I do know is, all I want is you.

Just in case, new sorrows bother me far from seing myself be me again but I'll save face
Painting the door red *** orange sunsets on the flanges locking poor binge watchers lore friend roll dice across the lives dangle on the porches
No sense in portly bored men loose last nights lunch launched upon the confidant smiley subordinate freckles change places with the spittle. Reminds me to riddle you this question riddled rediculous by forethought rampant in its rending the positive outcomes floundering to even sprout. So much doubt now.

There's no point writing anymore
when the idea of sharing them again becomes
so droll
Now my thought's wrestle against themselves
and disappear, and unfold
The farther they stretch, the further they fold in
then release, like a breath, for a moment unspun
yo-yo
betrayed tenfold, no matter the compatie.
Friends, turned heathens, turned businessmen, turned faithful, turned deathtrap, turned kindness, turned apathy, turned hoprful, turned apathy, turned tarnished over time, turned hate for the self.
and I'm over here like, bro//
I just want to be left alone.
therein lies deceit, a line I've waited to say for some time.
we all seek something, and it makes want for us all
no matter the source.
Perhaps, that's why some of us still pay taxes.
If you're reading this
Just because you're scared, doesn't mean you're wrong to be. When your scared, though, make sure you're scared for the right reasons. Don't act out in fear, or jealousy, or anger
They cloud your judgement, and distract you from the cause.
and.
they could very well destroy whole chapters and books of a life.

I hope you fix what needs fixing, mark what needs marking, cultivate what needs cultivating, and build what needs building.

"To let go would not be so bad"
Said the spider to the snake precariously positioned atop the overpass
Busy lights towing dragons sped dizzily below
"Just think! You're body will feed my kin a generation!"
The snake gulped, a quakey sight to be seen, then leaped from his captors web
Into the claws of the raven.

Car won't start
Hands in heart in hands
My plans have fell through
Again, yet
There's always a yet
A low highbrow close to closing
Where the **** am I
Really.

My vision clouds before the moistureless concrete walls, a test ahould I prevail like time spent learning magick in divided cells of my past come to live again as a new beast roaring for attention.
It's what I deserve.
It's what I asked for atleast.
Grateful the opportunities granted plant an ideology of solve et coagulation though my spine protests the divine weight I traips when bearing.
Though my sight seeing detour detention center created of melted steel, cable, and drywall, I peer into an entrancing existence.
The soft soul that calls me her own, demonic armor left aside to accept mine own.
How ecstatic. This pain new to me, used to physically abusing myself to prove I could still feel meaning in the lonely traveled roads of a morally conscious bard , my stories I've lived and heard far across the winding winds.
Forgotten almost as easily, is it true I've ever lived before my dark angel of the mountains graced me with her presence? Left unchecked I stress the understood  importance of the natures violent growth.
I put the consequences on the backburner and found myself a partner.
Am I lucky, or a fool, or drunk on possibilites that I think are ******* cool?
All of the above and more, I'll pour my adoration forth a soul spring gushing rapid comfy, polar aspects mingle
Touching
Holding
Happy

Why is the worst question.
Unanswered left guessing in a state stressed and uneducated, great, yet
Answered left tormented in pain, aching to accept the quest, yet grateful nonetheless.
Changed, in that I don't want to stay the same
Shapeshifter.

I christen this for those too far gone villainous listeners drifting in and out where all space and sound differs from the inner louse, spinning out now new spouse left with the umpteenth kid I lost count got it straight out from the horse mouth, even got a giftbag made of **** rags from the riffraff that bought it with tickets and mixed it with the ripped off gift tags.

The past is history
The present is a gift
The future is rife with mystery and cheap tricks. Pain as well but bygons are bygons so take a seat.
Sit.
You're making me nervous, relax and watch the passage of time where all plans backend the truck in front of us.
Everyone's ******, I'd hope so, there's 7 billion people who still believe their plans laid out are worth believing.
My plans are laid out like legos, so I can crush them myself. Necessary if I plan to build her a palace beneath the worlds problems, just gotta keep up my health

I can measure time with blinking eyes.
Reading the lights behind my eyelids
Reaping benifits that **** the atrocious hazel gaze
I find
I seek three of everything my feet can squirm over to. Gluttonous smelly mouthless creeping toiling sleeping paranoia, held back within the reaches of my skin, a key needed and kept secret, yet released frequently for its servitude to these, our basest natures.

I can measure bliss in forgotten time.
Pupil dilation suspected slime boss
What the **** am I doing.

Initiation with a siren
Your thoughts are no longer your own
Weighted petrichol on grounds
That could never appreciate it
Who are you then
To influence the dreams of others, when
Yours are held by a nightstand
That never touches ground.

My brains mushy turkey leggings in the freezer out the box and waiting 3 months rotting in the summer suns running lean from the gnawing marks that carve the brittle bones into witches hex crowns
Now we create the sated space for cattle-brain pacers following infinite prompts paved pavements ending in a death that's somehow sooner than intended
Wretched runes of wretched wretches'
Held higher than I've flown remember
Glow down softer touch the ground
In slender light it feeds the being the beacon is centered on seeing receives relieving reloquaries of recollections recieved frequently tieing up the process of feeding.
What now do I need
Asked heathen skull seething from hulk to steeple creep peekin' I scream at these demons with treats and some healing I'm dressed in vermillion not sequence barely a squeel to my zealous request now a feeling.
I'm not that excitable.
I usually dress in work clothes
And wear the next days pair to bed
I just got excused, from life for two weeks in quarantine. Even my probation officer won't
See me now. So this drunken poetry fumble tumble quickly to it's end in 10 minutes since we've met my bedroom surroundings -Atchoo-  nice this time of year I treat the -Atchoo- season with a-h-h-h sense of -Atchoo- respect, mainly because of the perfect -Atchoo- weather. I Hines. .. Honeszszs....
A-Atchkooo. .
Honestly can say that I love this cold weather with my warm heart. I don't get paid leave either. Yay chrismas.

****, this
Obsolete gravity
Connection
Faltered
Ghost link
Pain
Revisited, oh
Pain
The tide held back, every
Change made too
Late. At night
Intrinsic rain beats and spatters with
With the numbness she said she carried.
Fate! Sadistic insight melds into fruit.
Alone.
Escape and evacuate those ruined parts of your soul, collapse the wreckage and clean the parts that you were shown.
For now, though
I should
Just float.

This cycle of intruige and disillusion
How it bends to circumstance
And premonitions.
Trusting guts convey temperament
While eyes analyze the sway.
How then will you decide the fate of man
In the gaze of dream swept eyes.
Will you fall
Will you drown
Will you will yourself into motion before the crows have nostalgia over that which disposed the ill endowed
My favorite writer
A time will come to pass when my regrets
Become my most valued treaZers.
I hope you're there for that.

My present hardly exists.
The day to day feels the same as 6 months ago until she made her appearance.
I've been neatly pressed into a mold to fill this cog shaped hole.
Steamland could use a sandwichmaker like me. My angry bread would laugh at how stupid the machine-like dreams money grubbers and land lubbers ring in my ears.
They fear the truth behind scenery reflected in my eyes.
So they'll ignore my laughing meat slapped on heated grain to feed and sustain the dreadhorde that fills their pockets till the change clatters across this sterile concrete for the rats to fight over.
She says she smiles when I'm happy.
I smile when she smiles is that too sappy?
Are we now trapped in happiness now the search has hit the last stop of this decade-long fix?
I hope so. I have my doubts and baggage, though I'm fairly certain I forgot it on the last train stop platform. Now can I ask all passengers to please head to the next car 10$ richer and not look back as we have only just met and need to fill up each others lack of *****?

This throne of mine
A stool of polished promises
Nevermind the bones that stick up
From the pool of waste around me
Come ask me for coin,
I'll share with you me stoney rubles
Come ask me for guidance,
I've maps for every goose imaginable.
Come ask me for time,
I will spend it with you waiting
Waiting
Waiting for you to ask me of the elephants,
That stampede through my kingdom.
If you don't care to ask
Then my reaction will be just as subtle.
I hate my temple
As to fix an explosive to it
Then I wouldn't have to fix it
And drift away from this home
That's not my home
To the abyss