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Cory Williams Apr 2018
It's a heat wave in the city!
The yellow orb scorches our skin
We sweat and shed
Rinse and repeat

...Inside a little tin box, warped wooden panels accent clouded
Windows painted shut.
A thirteen inch TV projects a fuzzy muffled televangelist
Preaching your sins will be washed away by purchasing
A vial of his miracle water...a refreshing drink for a heathen
Too late to see it.

Cigarette embers swirl around a box fan vortex;
A tornado of cancer wreaking havoc on nobody...
The only thing sweating in this secondhand shack is three
Aluminum cans half full of unfulfilled promises and fully empty of
Future dreams.

A lone empty shell of a .357 lays wedged between the side of a
Melting freezer and a pantry of dust...
Today, one man found an escape from the undying heat,
Dying,
And calling his own forecast of scattered red showers
With a chance of pouring brain.

Stay cool.
Cory Williams Apr 2018
As if she were a soaked cedar plank
Floating through a sodium smoky sea,
Her body overpowers mine;
Moth into flame protected.

My smokescreen, silver tongue
Marching down her stairway to substance,
White offerings are what she brings;
Slipping into delusion.

The pressure to not disappoint boils,
Like blue blood oxidized,
That taste of copper shuts my mouth
And I am stricken with fear and wonder.

Let temple burn
My defenses fail
Systematic shutdown
Rome has fallen.
Cory Williams Mar 2018
When did love become so violent?
When did people start to hold hands in fists?
When did amorous letters turn into 140 character snips?

Reactions were real; we stumbled through hoops together head over heels
And now we stumble through scrolls with eyes-
Irises as white as the background that bleeds into bloodshot sclera-
There is no vitreous humor here...we're melting.

When did Cupid start carrying a gun?
When did value turn face towards deprecation?
When did the olive branch come from a broken tree?
When did words become weapons of divinity?

The storm we hold is long and wide-
And the power of letting it go extends the hand of life;
Vulnerable, we most definitely are as the thunder rolls
And the lightning strikes - no place to hide...

When did you swing towards my lip to make it rain even more-
When that same lip could have been a cloud on your forehead
To clear the sky?

When did love become so violent?

30 Mar 18
Cory Williams Mar 2018
You inept ****,
Sunday driver flunky,
******* snake seeking shelter in the mongoose's belly-
Because it's easier to bend over and take it
Instead of ******* back the r(e)aper.

You 9 to 5 yes-man,
"No, that suit doesn't make you look fat"
You say as you chew the cud;
Thank you for the spit,
And may I eat this bowl of your *******?
Cory Williams Mar 2018
Built of stone and fire
This is heat
Enough to ****
Enough to live
Alive and kicking
Pushing and pulling
Forming this temple
I forge and grow
Heart beats from the core
This is chilling
My soul exhumed
For all to see
Out of body
In my mind
I can never sleep
Cory Williams Mar 2018
Beyond the sleep where tired eyes shut
And below the surface in pools, she treads.
An accident waiting, deaf and blind,
She shrieks in ways to wake the dead,
And I can hear her nails scrape through stone.

Hair wilted, black and matted
Whip on the walls like paying penance
For this horrible monster that I've created.
I cannot sleep through this panic,
And I can feel her rising.

She crawls like broken centipedes
Through twisted shards of glass,
Her eyes glazed and void, yet staring through my soul-
She hunts olfactory and can ******* beads of sweat.

That cursed well where she was laid in unrest
Will soon be home for my trembling skin and bone;
She will never leave me alone in sun or moon
And forever I feel her sorrow.
I wanted to create something supernatural of a creature, yet have some sort of relatability in regard to inner demons.
Cory Williams Mar 2018
Along the way we learn things too hard,
And we whisper out the way to stop our hearts,
We gather mountains of information that will tear us apart,
Like the sun hopelessly collecting shadows through glass towers.

We all fight day in and day out,
To pull the wool over our eyes,
Seeking warmth and comfort in a world so cold,
It's so strange to have a paper cocoon in a raging inferno.

Like Dante on his journey through Hell,
The deeper we go, the more it gets hazy,
Only until we hit rock bottom,
And the Devil gets his dues.
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