in my dreams and idle violence
I imagine that I’m loved and lovely,
that she rests upon my chest in silence,
her breath testing the finiteness
of my heart that ticks defiantly.

so tricky are these fickle dreams,
I hear no real beat beneath my bones.
where the river goes, so do the boats,
and daylight has decreed
that we are gone the way of ghosts.

You can’t compare yourself
With the unbroken girls
Surrounding you
You already shattered
Creating
A new form
Of beautiful

-jt

Sometimes when sorrow sinks in
I worry a wailing might screech from my chest
And every person for miles might hear it.
Or feel it shake the air, like hot flame
Ripples carrying my saddest indulgence
As the beast that weighs me down, croons.
So that people quaking, step out of the way
And we have room to sing the lonely wail, some more.

Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.

Hamlet, sharpen your sword of trust, for Macbeth is surely waiting.

The specter of ‘Civil war’ stalks the land and the ghosts of senseless violence, so long docile, have come to hollow-eyed attention.

Our cauldron was filled with innocence, as the ever-thirsty succubi require, the glory of war is being shaken, not stirred and the betrayal will be served as quick and cold as steel.

#chefskiss