If you ever
Spy me in a tree
Don't worry
I am just pretending
To be a bird
With wings of wax
And a beak of iron

I am the whisper
In your dreams
The poet in your screams
I am the power
In your fall
The milk
That grows you tall
I am the succor
To your pig
The hole
You've yet to dig
I am the stars
Still in your sky
The words that just won't die

Darkness is a jungle
A twisted dying land
Its soil is our actions
The blood is on our hands

But if you travel through
The darkness of your soul
A new-found understanding
Will make your light side whole

Neglect it at your peril
Ignorance is its might
But a careful cultivation
Will let in the light    

      Tame your darkness        
         Or it will devour us all

Open my eyes
With razors and forceps
So I can dig my fingers
Into the flesh
Of my soul
Ripping thoughts
Out of my mind
Leaving them to bleed
Out
And feed the ground
You walk on

Will you join me
On my new journey
Across the stars
And into the spaces
Where atoms grow?
I promise not
To take you too deep
As I run my hand
On the surface of my home
But you can visit
And drink the waters
Of nectar gods
And their
Bitter
Beautiful
Complexities
Like the shattered
Rainbow dust
Of mirror prisms
I'll hold your
Hand
And teach you
The magnificent
In the macabre
And how in its center
Grows a bloom
Of sparkling orange
Petals
Free from the blood
And the bone
And the darkness
You'll eat a bite
And taste
Serenity
Tranquility
Warmth
The purest form
Of love
Without true words
To describe
Only echoes
And shadows
Of the sweetsong
Juice
That nourishes us
All
May you find it in every
Cracked part of society
And use it like finger paint
To rewrite
The world

Journey away with
My wings on your shoulders
We'll travel the worlds
Between the spaces
Of the sky
Let us travel faster
Than the light
As we outchase this reality
And replace it with my own
Home
Where angels flit like fireflies
And dark blood
Glimmers
Like sanguine night skies
Shimmering with the glitter
Of a million
Tiny stars

Portrait of a god
Made with ****** ink
Cut from the flesh
Of my fingers
I draw like a child
Trying to make sense
Of the sky

Golden bums of summer
We ride until midnight dawn
Surfing waves of rivers
Made of yellow cloth
Spun from threads of glowing
Starlight processed thin
Woven to an inch of its life
To glass-like purity

Am I writing this poem
Because I have something to say?
Or because I feel the need
To get a certain amount of words
Down before I stop for the day?
I think it's a bit of both
Clawing my brain
To scratch it just right
For arbitrary rules
That wake me at night

Dressing up in starlight
Mingled with the mess
Of all that that's good and wholesome
Finely coifed tress
Look at me and wonder
Where I came to be
Don't fear the lovely lady
Marvel at what you see

Do you really know me?
Or do you know the self
You created
Out of clay
And paper mache?
Forming a joke?
A caricature?
That's so beaten down
They're afraid
To rip apart
The lies
And come forth
Like a babe
Anew?
Fresh and gleaming
And free?

I hurt
But part of me hides
Leaving me to carry the burden
Of trauma untended
I should respect that
But I'm the one left
With the garden
Among the weeds
That they refuse
To ****

Coming all ages
A horde of minds
Riding on the dust
Of society
Brined

Thoughts and ideas
Canned in jars
Fermenting for ages
In abandoned
Bars

Drink the vinegar
The flavor lasts
Of old innovations
And dreams long
Past

Lick your lips
**** your teeth
Letting history hide
What lies
Beneath

We can only feel smart
By comparison
Even if the comparison isn't real
So we filter reality
Like our eyes are the mouths
Of Baleen whales
And our ears
Are covered in cheese cloth
Then mold what comes through
With the spit in the corners
Of our minds
And craft
A wet dripping pile of
Proof
That we are good
In the gaps
Of other people's failings