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JMT Feb 2021
Sinking
Sinking
Sinking into the mire

The day beckons me
“Listen!”
If only I had ears to receive

This corporeal prison
Beholden to my faulty chemistry
I brace myself with lies and purpose

In the City of Angels
I wonder
“Is it dead?”
JMT Jan 2020
Flushing a toilet full of **** is not unlike living and dying. As the **** spirals into the sewage pipes that sprawl like so many veins underneath the city that all lead to the sea where they join the **** of others, so do our bodies after they are interred and decompose, only to be consumed and shat out by the flora and fauna of the Earth, binding to all that is, ever was, and ever will be. For when our planet is pulverized and our myriad guts scattered across the galaxy, we will all be married in ******, celestial totality.

Life is ****.
JMT Apr 2019
To weave a golden thread
To keep and covet a dream
Taut in the aether
A glimpse of the mother
Radiant and proud as the essence that glows beneath my very feet
Trickling up
Swelling behind my cloying eyes

I clench and stretch the anima
As a bird struggling for freedom of its porcelain white cell
Life is ushered forth
Spraying it’s fragrant, violet mist
Drunken in its volume
The majesty of this experience is as transient as the vessel it haunts
JMT Sep 2018
**** me
With saccharine sighs
And cloying eyes
Their glamour entices me
These thoughts leaden in my viscera
Scarlet in my sclera
Your love is terrifying
Viscous and caustic
You’re going to destroy me
But that’s fine
I’m going to let you
Lingering in your shade
I’ll stay awhile longer
Away from myself
I’ll never be far enough
Just let me stay awhile longer
JMT Jul 2018
Hello, World!

I’m going to **** you.
JMT Jun 2018
Lift me up
So I can look down
To see the throes of truth foisted by our clandestine pretense
It's become us, blinded us
Abandoning our empathy
The joists of fear fulcrum the foundation of our ignorant obstination
JMT May 2018
Mud
Sometimes I feel the water
Seeping through my land
Cracked and sanguine
Now seamless and quenched
The smell of petrichor fogs my skull
And the birds bathe and drink

Their songs entice me to discover
To explore my immanent wealth
To remind me of something I’d forgotten
As an epiphany
I recede into myself just as my feet are enveloped by mud
But I remain still
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