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Justin S Wampler Apr 2022
Betrothed to a great and unending sorrow.
Grasping, wide-eyed, at advertisements
luring the wanting soul inside with
decadent promises of quality and joy.
Perfection marches on, lingering in the eyes
of millions, so that they may divulge themselves
of hard earned money for brief spurts of happiness,

and it is indeed true happiness,
even if momentary.
Clicking the blue purchase button,
the anticipation of package tracking.

Another thing.
Another thing to pile up, and throw away.

It's not the thing that's being purchased,
it's the promise of fulfillment.
It's the brief respite
from that great and gray cloud
to which we're all wed.
It's the moment of joy,
that's what's really paid for.

Oh, and have you seen that new cellphone?
I want one.

You should too.
Justin S Wampler Mar 2022
I want to taste the black ink bled
by my ever lonesome and worrying pen.

I want to paint the floors with
my innumerous words for
how I've been doing here.

In this **** hole apartment.

I love my apartment, wait, don't listen to me.
I'm grateful for all these golden opportunities.
Life shone brightly upon my needs.

I want to coat the back of the toilet in ****,
the bathtub in mold and mildew.

I want to rip the curtains to shreds
and ignite them into a funeral pyre.

I'll exhale smoke and smile through the carcinogens.
I'll bleed from my knuckles.
I'll snap every last pen I can find.

I'll snap every last pen.

Life has been good to me,
I'm genuinely happy.


I'm happy

and I'll **** you.
I'll **** me.
Justin S Wampler Mar 2022
Inkless Inkless

Inkless Inkless


Can't write

Love is a hollow tube
where ink used to be,
but is now gone too soon.

Plastic carcass

Bite into you
Justin S Wampler Mar 2022
There's no real relief.
Just an endless search.

Suffering abated, gives way
to new suffering.
Solutions turn up only
new longings, only
new reliefs
to set one's sights on.

Circles ring round
the nature of man,
we trace them
in our thoughts.

In our actions.

They don't see me,
not really.
I'm just a pair of sunglasses
reflecting a blue morning sky
with jetliners carving scars
in the mirrored horizons.

I'm just a smile to them,
to anyone.

Just as they are
to me.

We're all just sifting through
the dust of life,
looking for a hidden relief
to some hidden suffering.

So that we may suffer anew
once again.
Justin S Wampler Mar 2022
The moon winked at me
when I glanced the windy midnight sky.
Its eyelid a lone cloud,
trundling heavy and tired.
Trees' leaves danced all around
with the sound of a hushed little sigh.
Oh sleeping evening,
oh great seeping eye.
Kindly quiet your come hithers
and just leave me to die.
The cold gives way to warmth,
the warmth blankets my mind.
Give up your heart,
for then comes the freedom to fly.

Sights set on the tallest of timbers,
feathered wings outstretched at my sides.
Trying to escape the remembers
though no matter how hard I try,
glimpses of the past still flash
like reflections of moonlight in my eye.
Faster now, I reach for the stars
as I pump air and fly
all the way up
to the top of the sky.
Heart racing, breathless to boot,
I fold up my feathers and find
that I'll never be able to reach it.
Reasons I'll never be able to find.
Soundless, I'll fall to the Earth
and gravity will feel just fine.

Though,
I wanted to skim on the waters,
I wanted to sing of those times
That I watched the sun turn to embers
and the moon wink in the midnight sky.
Justin S Wampler Mar 2022
Voice in my head got too persuasive.
Justin S Wampler Mar 2022
I'll rake my fingers through the loose dirt,
the gravel and the disintegrating asphalt.

I'll sift it
in search
of what's
been lost.

Dropped, slipped through
my buttery mitts.

Squeeze the stones.

I can hear my heartbeat in my teeth.
I can feel the sunshine on the nape of my neck.
I can taste the dust of desperation,
it dries my tongue to a raspy strip of jerky.
I can smell you here. Coating my lungs
like a plague.

Exhale.
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