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Bombus Jan 2021
Of my bold adoration
There remains - a certain -
Slant of Truth
That teases the Sun’s notice
With its retreat to solitude
And - advancements deeper - Within
I still admire her
Even if the six feet
Of silence between us
Blurries my restraint
And holds my thoughts - Aloft
Away - from grasping reach
I Cannot see a better way
To rejoin my own
That plunge straining with impetuosity
That dive that’s bound for Death
The train horn - hollers - overhead
The ropes they bind my flesh to steel
My heart considers this - and then
Resumes her steady throb
And dastardly hurries on
With nary a glance behind
To peer at it - from growing distance
That thought of expiration
Total adoration
Simply holds my head from burning temptation
The possible return to her soothing voice
Taunts my steadily descending mind
And keeps my soul - Alive.
Bombus Jan 2021
I’m sorry that I’m inadequate
For your heart
Find your blade
And follow it through mine

I’m sorry I cannot hold the truth
In these hands that hide their faces
Find your compass
And drive your ship from my port

I’m sorry that I loved you
Too much for your desire
Avert your eyes from my bleeding soul
Lest it bore deep into yours

I’m sorry for this long speech
That I bequeath your reddening ears
Here - take mine
And bury them - under your stark words
That you so brutally bestow.
Bombus Jan 2021
“Carve our names into the old oak tree,
Lest our love fades” - much like the freedom of summer -
The hollow of my heart,
Casts a deadly shadow on the trash strewn road-
I still feel your cold fingertips on my calf,
Flesh melted away from their burning paths-
Your whispered death threats into my ear-
Still churn my vacant stomach-
I close my eyes to you -
Yet still your image burns into my conscience-
My neck hairs stir and rise -
Wary of your presence - still it lingers -
The parody of a happy household -
Plays - repeatedly - the chilling echos of a woman's laugh-
Litter my mind - like you and your selfish doings-
My head is stiff from lying on your basement floor,
Your hand on my mother’s shoulder - an imprint of fear -
Her sallow face - drained and soulless - your fault entirely-
It’s been years since you’ve kissed me with empathy-
Though, I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore,
As you weren’t the person I was once introduced to.
Bombus Jan 2021
The fist he throws
With great display
Of his splendid grin
Down with the weak
And with ample pleasure
The strong shall rise

The vigorous duck
She provides
With a ferocious look
In her steely Eyes
Down with the strong
And with mighty joy
The weak shall rise

From behind comes a force
Unannounced and free
Smites a boundless blow
Which falls the unknowing opponents
Down with the blind
And with no effort
The Truth shall rise.

— The End —