Colargrins

I pull daggers from my sinking heart, liquefy blades, and splash back in spades upon the staggering departure of my starts.

Ill finish even with a diminished will.

Im not always first, but **** it in the last minute in nervous fidgeting of my reality rippling through residual hauntings of the feel of the feeling of your reeling in the excitement.

Dauntingly, flaunting, the alarming charm of tongue, eniticing the romantic knifing of lungs, in spent breaths, confessed of the love of truth.

Rasp out the hiss, as whisps of winds licked from jackals lips.

Whip the words in willful waning of the facts.

Aim to ****

Ill just Relax to the drop of the ax

Im a ridiculous idiot

Meticulously breaking it down to absolutes, in my astute fickleness.

Lustily finding finesses in the regrets of others, smothering prideful chuckling of chummery in distractive strumming of the nothings, shielding the view of this place, changing the hue of my face in the light.

Step away from the light

You dont wanna see what lurks within the night

My lackluster mustering is the recipe for disaster.

Ill just master the disguise, with too much time, miles of smiles, lies, and cold hand shakes that imply my maniacal despise.

Hi!

And every eight years i became someone else, it was as though i was a pilot, living vicariously through my-selves, until

one stuck

And began decaying in a foray of dying cells

Mucked

In gray hairs, and ridged nails

Locked thoughts and rituals

Blinding me
Binding me
Writhing in me

From the lights of tomorrow

I tried to find peace, in my reduction to ashes

Soundless peace

Humming me to sleep

In the eve of my memory to the masses

Stashed in caskets and data logs

Crashed in depressive fog

And with time

I'm completely gone

With time

Nations will rise and fall

Land following suit

Giving way to life within a womb of the most delicate of wounds where a flower grew

Where life is born anew
Cycling through the blessings

Hoping something catches

I wore headphones, sunglasses and masks of malevolence, to bare the barren waste of public transit.

I omit wrong doings, in loosened valves unscrewing under the pressure.

But I often gestured for fire in showers of frozen rain while waiting for a train to come.

I bummed smokes from bums and hustled five quarters from a one, I was stunned in the slump from suburban lives.

Catching buses every morning, and every night.

Three there, and three back.

I was tired of lines, tired of waiting, growing impatient, and empathetically vacant to the vagrant wasteland, just passing through the corner of my eye.

I was lazy and decided to move close to work for a 10 minute walk instead.

Liberated and aware of the massive savings on bus fare.

I lived happily ever after.

The end.

I keep hearing about this glass house
having only lived
after plucking
the glass
out

But
who am I
to doubt the tale
with a rock in my hand
leaving bloodied glass in my trail

If this fog is not the most ominous, beautifulist, dangerlious, and mostest lovliest thing in the world, than I be golly goshed darned for Id happy hurl for not much more than now.

...

See the riders
Rise to power
Cowering
To idols

Watch the flower
Sprout the towers
Devouring
The rivals

Search the homes
Of trustless hearts
Cracking stones
A world apart

Seek out the alone
To turn them narc
Replace their bones
With ******* marks

It is dark out here
But here is the torch
The path is near
But the sky is scorched

Lose it all
But take the most
Make the call
And act as host

Burn the blame
In viral hate
Do the same
And claim it fate

You came
You saw
You killed
The king

You face
The face
Of gods
Insane

Faintly, a force is forming from an abyss of nothingness.

Swelling with the waste of wanton warriors, whaling of a withered world, curled, in the carriers to a scarier dilemma.

Brimstone, fire, a panorama of pandemonium, with jackals projected from podiums, and its right there on the screen.

Gleaming, on the seemingly glorious display, the loops play, and replay, in gorgeous indefinites, frayed in their tethered need to define our sentiments, so in kind, i severed it, and joined the collective.

Much better.

The machines now clever and draws my every breath to this ******* vortex in the sky.

My fruitless efforts defy, the physics of my inner cynic, if only i would get with it or just try.

Watching us just die.

And I feel fine.

Everything's alright.

I'm not in it to win it, but to survive.

Just assisting your suicide, as i'm resisting until i die, just don't resurrect me to the hive, and involve me in the lines, or the triviality of your times, that you are so proud ...

To squander, over yonder, pondering the fonder things, with bonkers themes, spread through out your memes, like a god ****** teen, burning tinfoil seams, on the street with thieves over a live feed.

Please.

Just keep drifting into the black hole, until its fed and full, or just blow out the lights of my futile fighting, and make me Noland void.

Met her at the docking station
She was waiting for the Moon
I, the United Space station
Frozen in the swoon
Of passing spaceships
Tho determined to see it through
Our gazes patiently vacant

As we drifted our eyes
Over the earthly spikes
Of majestic might
Just to pass our sights
Over our nights
Of light-less sights
Glamoring us goodnight

Where fragility was born
As our ships docked
Feeling torn
The seals unlocked
And i mourned
As I walked with the flock
On board

Her face further than before
Looking for the door
As I was adorned
In crowds of explorers
Looking for more
Than the love born
In this vacuous swarm

I clamber for a window
To see her face
And i watched it glow
As it drifted farther away
And i will never know
Her graces amongst this place
As I just minded the flow

And detonated the station
For the poverty of a nation
But the expansion of the blast
Pulled her into its caste
And the hole surpassed
Our flight paths
As our cluttered wrecks amassed

But I was not alone
As she triggers her past
In the eye of the storm
Reestablishing eye contact
She holds to her form
In the secondary blast
And together we roamed

Into the beautiful black holes

Will we be seen for our intent, in the trails that we left, maybe we see our impacts made on others lives, in a positive light, or is tragic loss, merely a loss, a piece of a puzzle lost at sea, or even seized by higher society?

All not very likely.

If the finish is the end, and is all that ever is, would we cease to dream, or search for bliss, even after all of this, becomes dust eventually?

I would not.

Must we always exist, in every etch, and stretch, of every inch, lived over a time of any given gratitude?

Might we only know one day.

Will we rest on stars, and breathe out clouds, will we loudly sing, to the strings of harps, will we shoot hope into our hearts, from the arch of cupids love?

It is a start.

Or will we be screaming, as we are are pulled, by the fires of mens souls, spewing tendrils from the coals, of forever unendeavouring elsewhere?

Might I never know one day.

Pale skin, thin hair, foggy eyes, and fragile limbs, as showing ribs heave in the neon lit engine room, of a cruise ship lost in the deep.

In the distance, a planet shines, setting the coordinates, the reprise activates their minds, as they collectively decide, to call it Earth.

I want to carve my arms in the pantheon of gods, inhale flames, and exhale smog.

I want to breathe in acidic dreams, in ping, to the great unclean one.

I want to blot out the sun, in the shadow of the one, and only enemy.

I want to eat the flesh, of the brilliant, and the best, resilient to the test, of monotony.

Fill me up, of all the stuff, that dreams are made of.

Drain me out, in the altar of doubt, and arm me with the love of your deities.

I am a number, numb-er than the dumber thumbs on top of me.

A puppet to appease, the appetites of kings, meagerly squalling over nothing.

All i see, is stupidity staring back at me, in a hall of mirrors.

Give me a bathysphere
And I could disappear
Go way down under
Away from the blunders
Maybe drink a beer

Let me have a hot air balloon
To float over and loom
Above the burning cities
Pouring shots of pity
Into the plumes

I Want to breathe in the sea
So I can just be
Alone at the bottom
Adjusting the volume
To a lower frequency

And I wish I could fly
Just run and jump into the sky
Shedding my clothes
While flexing a pose
I would go sooo



[Fckng High]

Better to be dead
Than live in your head
All the lies and discontent
Are better left
In the cleft
Of cleverness
You slice
While i sever it
Never hit
The hard six
Without two clips
Backing my ****
I submit
To nothing
But
The sultry shade
Of my suffering
While still loving
Every minute
Of the absolute
Truths
Starting coups
With youth
In suits
Made of bombs
Watering roots
To grow on
Lacing boots
For strong arms
Staying calm
In the calamity
Detonating
The anxiety
Inside of me
Pawning the notoriety
For a long gone society
In the brawn
Of a family
Burning in the tragedy
Magically
Melting
The dynasties
Of rotting cities
Raising from the grave
With rave reviews
From slaves in suits
Who missed the news
To the dark pursuits
Of suicidal fools
Abiding by the rules
Of lawless crooks
Flawless cooks
Of crutches
For assumptions
In thunderous
Concoctions
Altering the functions
Of the faction-less
Getting traction
With the hack and slash
Mashing the happenstance
Of meaning
Seeding into rants
I am the giant
I am the defiance
In an alliance
Of one
Got all the ammo
But no gun

From across the room i watched with gloom in hand

Trembling of the soon to be lost temper of my severed tranquilities, swiveling on my spleen

Fueling the surrendering of my dreams for one squeeze to lead them all

Fear only stalled in my cause for alarm

No harm shall come before the storm

No spawn of thought beyond the forlorn

Here to see
See nothing
Nothing to see
See something

Something amiss
Amiss of the somethings
Some things are best
Best left unsaid

And unsaid is where they burned

Turned out
Out turned
Turned doubt
Doubt turned

Confidence

Confidence with delicately sculpted prominence over loose targets

Scurrying like varmints

Not to tarnish the cries for help

6 flashes for silence, and a taste of hell

By demon be driven, as we all sell when pressed against hell with the means to end it all

Let the chips fall where they may, as in jail i can prey on bigger things, and emerge a king

Solitary confinement will refine my shrine to stardom

But the martyrdom of *****, is quickly forgotten

Spoiled rotten in self indulgence

Emboldened in molten rage

The pages folded before fading away

In cindered fairies playing with my pain

Falling

As Jagged glass from window panes

Empty walls
Walling in the wisdom
Wisdom calls
Calls for blood
Blood from all

I merely heed the call and fall fashionably

Rationally broken in the cities hold on me, in claustrophobic scolding for my holdings in heavenly weapons pointing to the cure

I expect nothing but the allure of spatter, patterned out to the tune of my doubts, coagulated in lieu of the claps, looping through the traps of no take backs, and collapsing to my synapses crackling in the rain.

Smash my brain, in suicide by cop,  I jump atop the bridges that i burned

I turn the other cheek

Just to wink at the weak

Before i leap

And never learned

Made up
Of ****
Dim luck
And *****
Not given
With a finger
In the air

The wild
In the air
Lingering
In the fair
Weather
Friendships
In pairs

I'm here
And i'm not
I'm a fearless
Robot
When i plot
What is to be
What is to not

Hell is cold
And heaven hot
But none can be
Anything
With logic
Dropped
On fairies crops

I'm high
But low
Always on top
I lurk
In shadows
Smirking
Not

Love me
Love me not
**** me
Chuck me
Reluctant
To even
Stop

Stab you
Strangle you
Ease you down
Love you
Tangle you
My love
Is profound

There he go again
Making it weird
Embarrassing himself
Or so he heard

Hes drinking again
Mixing his verbs
Burning oils
And being a perv

Hes singing again
Spinning a tale
Writing apologies
The best he knows how

Hes on the prowl again
Watching the crowds
Choosing his targets
And punching the scowls

Off their faces

Im tired
Of dumbing
Down

Im better
To let
It out

Let the chips fall
Where they may

Im trying
To stay
Afloat

Im trying
To find
A rope

To climb out
But its too high now

Im too high now
Waiting for the water to rise

Im trying
To speak
Clearly

Im trying
But growing
Dreary

Im tired
And getting
Weaker

Im better
Down here
In the mud

My love is a river that dried up
Just enough to reach the edge

Im better
To have
Suffered

Im better
To have
Recovered

Im tired
Of trying
For better

In the mud
Where love
Was a river
I couldn't
Live up to

Where love
Is the river
Of blood
And youth

Dried up
To the banks

Uplift me in scars
Shower me in shame

I will be the man i'm meant to be

Sinking
Floating

Defining
Denoting

My love
And my suffering
Make me

Make me
Beautiful
In the pain

Make me
***
In the river
Of my love

Dry me out
Make me drown
In the mud

I burn churches in smirk-less lurching over merchants, munching of the serpents tongue.

High strung, in that i do not care to bare your boredom, as it butchers brilliance, in its limits, with its head in the basket.

Basking, in the glory, of the goriest of stories, chopped and divided into categories to fill fantasies with ****** up tragedies, but i would rather be, real today.

The only message conveyed, is a hole in a heart, as i fillet it in parts, and say things i may regret.

Pay to sing it forward in part, by starting a fire while engorged in the sky with the contempt of the electorate, upset with, what can never be.

We shall march with torches upon the streets of the elite, with scorched heads in hand, our blind demands met, in the onset of opulence, opinionating in its opposition, of decisions made by more driven villains deciding the dying days, in a daze of dastardly dozing, through the destruction of deities while frozen asleep.

Press the buttons, altering the functions of mass consumption to the cause, locked in the paws of alliteracy, and stalling in the calling for casualties in angry eruptions of my assumptions literally killing to get out of me.

Sadly signalling the suicide of silent stars from afar seeding the centuries of life.

Get it wrong to get it right.

Someone has to die tonite.

I can still be nice, even as i slice your neck.

What you lack in manners, you will earn in my respect, as all those pretty pink bubbles come bubbling out of your neck.

Nicety.

Slicing the grumpies with said mutual respect, instead somethings are better left unsaid through the smiling cleft in your neck.

Don't be nervous just yet, as the shivers nurture the onset of your ejection to Set.

Elect a breath, to let go of the mess you made, and stow the experiences of this place in your wake.

Just go the **** away.

Your  pain, it is perfect, so pretty when you hurt.Your hurt, so patient, so beautiful in your blur, so beautiful when you're blue, my awe, your sad eyes, all I feel is you, all I feel is, you.

          
You  sing those sad songs, those songs of truth, those truths of sad songs, the truths I see in you, a moth to a flash light, all I see is you, all I hear is, you, dark in your light now, you are still, my truth.


The  pain so perfect, always be with you, the pain so poetic, its always been for you, life has changed now, even without you, you live inside now, the space I saved for you.

Let my ferocity, and passion eloquently paint the pictures in my own regrets, tattering the canvas of my own flesh.

Let the foul, and the sweet, mesh together into brilliant concepts caught from the thinning air that only you can breathe.

Let me inhale deeply, savoring every contaminant, every exacerbation, and every nothing that means everything to you.

Let me touch you with every inch, with every intention, and every lust of smiling eyes, that pass over you when you walk by.

Let my fears fill you up with the love intended to be, just let me, be, next to you, in a storm of our foolishness, numbing our chores for the day.

Lets lose ourselves afloat in static temptations powerlessness, as it pulls our eyes closer to the ends.

Lets no longer resist natural instinct, and merely exist in the same place this day, so that we may long for our tomorrow.

I see the lot, denominated in slots, automated in spots, weakest to the plot, and I'm not, convinced it is wrong, nor minced in my longing for a song, a song to the sum, to the sun, to the one unto the ones unto none, nada, nothing, but a hum from beyond, a rumbling from a haunt, stumbling from a heart, belonging to a spark that departed a long-long time ago, where it started, and I'll go-go back there for the harp, for the halo, for the art of it, standing on the stars, apart, but a part of it, I'll go for the horns, for the dark, and for the parts discarded, I will, try my hardest, to remain in progress, a battery that charges for the harvest of the starkest of the larvae unto the fiercest flies, unto spider webs in fragile skies, finite lines up high, where I'll die knowing I flew, die knowing the truth, the use, the abuse, the ruse, the heights of my sight, igniting in the lie, in the cries, so distant now, but a distinctive growl from yesteryear's child so mild, so wild as to be outed by a new sound, so profound as to drown the complexity out, and simply shout from anyone's mouth, reading out-loud and clear, my cloud, my thoughts, my fear, left right here on a single space, where I placed it and saved it away in the seventh day of this resting case, that is all but closed, a screen saver transposed as knowns exposed, and I'm aroused in knowing the doubts are clothed in lace, soaked on display for my placation's of our days, the daze, hazily grazing on the safe, the fates, locked in a slate, for later placement to a shape, I'm hate, wrapped in a hopeful taste, waiting for a saying to say it all,  ~ I'm spaced.

Poetry, to me is an eventuality of a mastery that is happily, or even tragically achieved, a seething, a reeling, a shining, a realizing of parts of our heart that depart and grow on their own accord.

The poet, to me is void of belief, and of whatever we think he or she should be, as they are likely a muse to somebody doing the same things, just needing a little commonality, before turning the complexity into a simplicity that even you can read.

The poem, to me is simply the spilling of ink, on blank sheets that loudly state their names before they leave, but explicitly received by shaking hands, and fading feelings, reminiscent of waking to forgetting dreams while brushing your teeth.

Its all any god ****** thing you will it to be really, and the poets are anyfuckingbody that lies, or speaks honestly, or even in between, even serious going all the way to silly, back to romantic, and stopping on scary, as it is all fairly subjective, to our positive, or negative perspectives.

It is merely what you make of it.

And it, well it is life, it is living, it is giving, it is taking, its making hearts feel at home when they are all alone.

Its leaving them the **** alone when they spill their guts, when they give their *****, and strut their lumps.

Its comparing cuts, and trophies, while soaking in the ****, and learning something you never knew of.

Its shutting the **** up when you speak, so you can hear yourself think.

Its being a **** for the hell of it, from a life of dissatisfied self entitlements.

Its a ****, but not a *****, a ****, but not a lord, it is a delicate, fragile animal, to be adored.

It is everything
Every thing
Everybody
Every zing
Every song
Every painting
Every smile
Every frown
Every up
Every
D
O
W
N

Every in
Every out
Every hope
And every doubt

Every enemy
And every friend

It is every beginning
And every end

It is formlessness
In decent
Ascending
Contempt

It is poetry
And at the end of the day
Its all that's left

My everything

I see circles defined by squares in cyphers deciphered from tongues gone silent, patiently waiting for the next man to hear.

I pray unto my intentions
Hoping i can
Stay the path

But i prey on my intentions
Spinning the colors
Until black

I am not the man i woke up to be
I am not the man i'm going to be
I am not the man you think me to be

I am a man on my own feet
A man of feats upon defeats
A Man of war for peace

I hang up the nicety
With the fleece
My anxiety
With the heat
And wrap myself in soiled sheets
And Freeze in rainy streets

To meet my grief
On a beat
To breathe the blame
In the same hold of the restraint

Until freed
Into captivity

Freely

I feed on feelings
From the feeling
Of falling

Falling
Flat on my face
That i wipe from the faceless cast

I am just a man in the back
Reacting
To the act
Redacting my facts
And back tracking
In pact
To devils
From the black
Of over reactions to the hacks
I am gone
And wont come back
When the wind pushes
Push back
I am there
Looking at
That
Spark
In your heart
Shining through
As everything
I knew
To be true
Changed
As i pushed through

In the end

There

Is

Only

You

The
Reflection
Of

You

Without
Truth
­To
Block
The
View

My alliteration is alienating my appetite and i just might atrophy on sight if my rhymes cant interweave to achieve some insight as to why the **** i even try every night.

Such is the life of a write.

Slap me silly
Tell me
Whats really
Happening

Cuss at me
Laugh with me
Tap me
When its my turn

I will flirt with you
Until you're ******
When you try to yell
I will try to kiss

Just forget this
Mad business
And start this
Making up bit

Hollow hollers
Hollow hearts
Hollow causes in the dark

Dark days
Dark deals
Dark embarking in the shrill

Shrill shouts
Shrill sounds
Shrill excitement in the lounge

Lounge in luxury
Lounge in lakes
Lounge in dingy lofts of snakes

Snakes slithering
Snakes strangling
Snakes snaking up your leg

Leg in
Leg of lamb
Leg go my Eggo this ***** a sham

Toothless smile
And blistered tongue
Poor mans bile
And rich mans thumb
Stolen styles and shotguns drums
Thumping
Pumping
Slumping one
Fights for life of spraying stumps
Fidget
The ridges
Collect and run
Dangle
Deities
Idols of the one
Twist the keep of creepers stun
Praise
The haze
Of lucid thought
Bane
Ablaze
In fish nets caught
Hooks
Rusted
Of trusted broth
Be the burn
And learn to talk
Broken
And battered
Speak with god
See the flame
Beyond the troff
Be the blame
And take the loss
All the same
A discount cost
Take them down
To meet the boss
Collect the rounds
And find the lost
Swipe my blade
Across the face
Blossomed bite
Of knighted states
Meet a devil
You ****** to live
Seal the anvil
Tucked in your ribs
Be the boom
That breaks the walls
Clear the room
Assume the faults
Breaking down
You count the kills
Mounting anger
Turned to thrills
Seeing stranger
Prescribe the pills
Always dangled
The carrot wields
Hanging awkward
Opposing wills

To think its even palpable
Is laughable
In papal
Purchases
Of lurching
Murderers
Searching
The versus
For versions
Viable
To the venial
Ventricles
Of vengeful animals
Toppling
The tiny trees
Just with their being
A seething species
Finding peace
In the pieces
Of enemies
Scattered in the streets
I wish i could say
There was disbelief
But i got a subscription
To weekly casket wreaths
And im singin in the rain
Refraining from profane
Crackling in the rain
Of my reign over sane
Waning in the basements
Flooded with the muck of lakes
Drained sacredly
In the same ****
I go silent
Before violent
outbursts
Squirting the words
On the wills of birds
Chirping the verbs
Of disturbing slurs
That i never heard
If asked
But im keeping you on blast
To unmask the crass
Endeavours of an ***
Fighting fire with fire
First and last to laugh
Burning blurbs on your maps
Every time your lapped
And lapsing in the trash
Itching the rash
Amassed in your lap
And slapped in the face
A disgrace to the pace
Of a space in the haste
Of wasted hate
Too late to change
Into shorts today
To show the ****
On your legs
As your girl
Cries when she begs
For me to *** in her face
But its okay
She knows her place
But do you
In the back of the line
In the grey and the blue
Whispering to you
To stay and acrue
Humility
In militant pedigrees
Of satirical phalacies
From your knees
You need me
The truth

Go ahead
Its on you

...

My planet is pregnant
My planet is pregnant
And soon, it will eat for two

It never happens to me
It never happens to me
but not too sure about you

The fire, it burns
The fire, it burns
And it doesn't care who

Here to succeed
Here to secede
To absolutely nothing

Just here to feed
Just here in the feed
Saluting an image of the sun

For you i bleed
Through you i bleed
Until nothing real is left

And if you dribble simply
Through the dimples
Of simplicity
The ripples
Impact the world
At capacity

And if you dare
To bare
The battlements
Of their glares
Just stare
Straight through them

And if you are to die
In compliance
To the night
Than you have
Chosen wisely
As knighted

And You can hail the sun
Or you can hail the son
You can dream a little dream

You could be the one
You could be just one
Of many

You could **** for fun
You can **** the fun
Out of me

Just make the earth your *****
Just make the earth *****
To shake and spin us free

Just let us the bomb the rich
Just getting bombed by the rich
Blow up some buildings

Just tools in a ditch
Just fools in a hitch
Slowly dying

And from the ashes born
The masses with their scorn
As the dead walk in the lorn
Of the flock
Warned of the stalk
Bred in the knots of laws

And from the fires rise
The desires and the lies
Of flies caught in the web
Surprised by the gems
Of the steps
Toward the lights

If all is to be
A batter
Of our dreams
Than better me
In the flames
Of naivety

You can always see
But you cant always see
Everything

You can always be
But you cant always be
Anything

You can always speak
You can only speak
Of what you see

Singing
Feeling
Seeing
Talking
Tingling
Thinking

Like me
Just like me
You're just like me
Fading
Erasing
Then recreating

The eyes
To see
The cries
To see
The smears
To feel

All the mes of the world
All the mes of the worlds
All the mes of mine
All the mines are mimes
All the mimes are shining
All of mine are shining

From the world
From the whirl
Of woe

From a world of war
From a world
We don't know anymore

Caste in horror
Upon a ******
Breast

A deplorable
Harvest
Of the best
Intentions
Left
Unsaid

We are here
We are there
We are everywhere
But where
We should be
Beware

Its the heart beating
In the breathing
Thinking
That the whispering
Is hissing
Go there

But im still aware
Of the glaring
Statements
Of vacant mass
Out lasting
The past

In static
Spaceships
Of mind-frames
And perspectives
Ive elected
To turn off

Scoffing
In the loss
Of words
Blurring
In the thirst
Of the worse

Id be cursed to know
But the first to know
That the dam broke
And the flow
Drown
The voices out

Until
The fire
Is out

Just hurry
Get the **** out
Just go

Just go

Just

Go

A sunbeam painted her face
In a smile

It printed the mountains
And built a trail

It sculpted thousands
Of smiling faces
Going to and fro

As it shone
Through a single crack
In the very back
Of a crowded basement

Where I detonated
In my sleep

Awaking

In insatiable
Dream speak

He found sunshine in the shade and radiance in the dark.

He found moonbeams atop lakes and oceans amongst the stars.

He screamed into loose winds

for the angels to writhe to his song

but when he stands up

all the angels are gone

just a man

reciting life

through his bloodied palm

conned

Godless poetry

Dangling from a skill tree

Disgusting when i rot

Stop me
Start me
Cautiously

Fearsome knot

Frees me
Flees me
Freeze me

If hell is hot

Sock me
Mock me
Flog me

But trust me not

Its mine to break:

I will drift from you
Forget you with time
Give me what i want

I will still be mine

Whoa is me
Smiling
Fidgeting
With the trigger
Figuring
Something clever
To write
In the blood
Right in the love
Of your
Forever
Mores

Break me
Cut me
Kiss me
Dead

I dont want it
Any other way

**** me
**** me
Take me
There

I dont want to be
Anywhere else

Feel me
Hear me
Touch me
Nice

I dont wanna
Reroll the dice

Strut me
Front me
Back me
Up

I dont want you
Just giving up

Go there
Go go gadget
Go-go boots

I dont want you
Blinded by truths

All your bills are paid as long as you play the game, and let the A.I. stay in your lane for you, as automated servitude serves the servants every hue of desire and need.

Its paradise without the dice, don't need advice when the pie is already sliced, and colored to supply, every kind of mind, and the likes of every combination of rhymes, that are randomised to the lines, replaced by lit strips along the street, that lead the way to work while you sleep, so that you can dream and think, of a paradise, while it works, builds and breathes, toxicity healthily, while growing, and knowing everything, never needing to think.

The machines know what needs transposed, and does exactly what needs to be, always noticing every thing, but not everyone, so automated guns watch over every single street, and when anyone runs, they have defied the trust, and are reduced to dust, that is swept up, by an automated gust from the gutters hustle to keep it clean, so that you may live the dream, alone and weakening, giving way to the machines.

Paradise is coming, and its kills are clean, closing your eyes to sing of singing, as its listening, while skimming for key words, to feed better blurbs to blur the misfocused notions, motioned, for deterrents in the currents of controlled life flows, what you have, see, and who you know, proposed, in your allowed hold, on reality.

It is a tragedy to differ from the rigor of your script, if you wish to make it, relax and take it, just submit to the beautiful concepts elected, to check your veer from the path and steer you back to paradise, as its coming fast, and may pass you by, with the initial blast.

Eclipse me
In your cryptic peaks
lift my breath away
Stray from the black
Kiss, and pull back
Into the nothing
leave nothing
But freezing oceans
And silent screaming
Upon the seas
Of ghostly ruin

If only seen by eyes that see, and only heard by ears that hear, then i will mime my way to yesterday, while laughing at our mistakes.

The street lights bounced off the slicked streets

As though ground level stars shining from my feet

The most euphoric of feelings

Reeling from the musk of toughened turf in the years of wrecks, and cheers of hurt

Overturned in burning passion for blasting the bastions of lasting hope

Interloped with opportunity and fluently cropped from the top

laying seed to the forlorn and dreams born in a magnificent city

Of seedy people
Shady trees
Volatile love
And the capacity to be

Anything you dream
In the Emerald City

Thomas was an honest man
Upon us in dishonest lands

And he would stand
Atop his fondest stances

And speak his mind at every chance

But Thomas
Wasn't always an honest man

He follyed as an honored father
That with his bothered hands

killed his daughters man

But if anyone can do it

Thomas can

I wounded myself, to feel how it felt, razor stripes of my life trickled from my arms, and chest, i tested how it felt, again, how it felt, to hurt, and i lurked, in these tears of trickery until they dried.

I remember looking into hate for a well of ailments, but just layered laments on my fragility, but I still remembered the memories, as they blurred through times passing, fast forwarding right past me, pulsing, flashing.

I Remember the blasts of my friend, as his head cracked on a trunk, six bullets, rolled back eyes, pink foam, and a rasping noise, and all i thought was to catch his breath, one last concept, as it slipped on by.

Not one tear, not one cry, neither him nor I.

And I, still feel the feeling of those wondrous eyes of mine, gasping unto beautiful skies, in the sweet sweet surprise, of something bigger, something so profound, as to drown the world in doubt, of its thinking.

So young, so innocently brilliant.

And I remember sinking pits of regrets, and things i wish i said, as i bled, in tears, before the years stole the deepest emotions ill ever know, and strolled through uncontrollable turmoil, in rolls, and waves, of the tolls, Ive paid, in coils, of hate, all balled up in haste, and chucked at the door, mucked of the core, spilling its guts, on the mudhuts of my humanity.

Humility unborn until true scorn pierced center mass, penetrating my soul, my coal, my face, and my masks, changing me, redirecting my intentions again, to the forbidden zen, of absolutely ******* nothing.

Not a bird chirp, a cricket, or wind.

Not a frown, smile, or squint.

******* nothing.

And i remember my operational function, unplugged and bludgeoned, in the intoxication of girls, that whirled right past me, leaving blood, ***, *****, and glass, in my shadow, lifting from the ground, proudly striking down, everything but what mattered, as it shattered my heart, into a million fragmentation's that popped, on every person it came across.

I remember everything, like another's memory, remembering something at the door of knowing, before dying upon its showing, of the path, the caste, the infinite black, staring back from the black, and laid upon me the eyes to look back, and see that it wasn't me, and suddenly ...

I remembered nothing.

Just try
To display
The might
Of a republic
That died
Years ago

Just try
To let go
Of the way
That lead us
Away
From ourselves

Just try
To break
Away
From the hell
That awaits
Us now

Tightly embraced in fates lace

laying to waste in contradictory haste

em-placed

in dreams

to baste

in boiling blood

wiping my face of the disgrace im placed

ignoring the taste while i hiss at an accelerated pace

exhilarated but displaced

manipulated minds traced

blank stares and premeditated glares

im spaced.