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Michael May 2019
Rumination is my business.
Paranoia is my empire.

Built upon information.
An abundance of or lacking.

Just enough proof.
To know I that need more proof.
Michael May 2019
Much more than poetry.
Evermore than words.
Prose that lines our DNA.
As it meets and intersects.

Time is fiddler.
We were born to dance.
Under the gleam of God and all.
Let them fathom true romance.
Michael May 2019
When words are your outlet, where do you put them?

When words are what you believe in, how do you keep faith?

When words are your obsession, how do you keep a distance?

When words have betrayed you, how do you gain trust?

When words are all you have, what do you say back?

When words are your enemy, how do you come to peace?

When words are your sin, how do you atone?

When words are independant, how do you sieze control?

When words is your word of choice, how do you describe them?

Words are the blessing, and our greatest curse.

Words brought me here, with no map to guide me home.
Michael Apr 2019
A silk laden hand, shattered glass stained gold and autumn irises. Lunar surface, soft glow pale. Flesh made of ice, embers on your fingertips.

Cast iron tongue, lays foundations of truth. Floor is weak and leaning, droplets from small cracks. Nailing promises, rust and rust.

Still a heart in the home. Beats forevermore. Elements interceding, reclaiming with thorns. Home's heart a wall of vine, brush, and age.

An architect with no foresight. Tumbles down, wastes it all. An architect with no hindsight, put paper to pen and build it again.

Save the land, make your bed. Take it with you when you go.
Michael Jan 2019
What lies beneath our laughter?
What is the shadow to our bliss?
White lies are painted black, to blend into the dark.

What signs do I look out for?
If any at all.
That my paranoia has been tainted, with truth - and truth alone.

What do I recall?
An amalgamation of insecurity.
Fog on glass, cuts on my name.
Praise him, the bait that stung the soul.
Michael Jan 2019
Thank you for tearing into my home.
A gentle spirit contaminated by morbid waste.
Thank you dissolving my spirit.
An obsession culled by sexuality.
Thank you for restless thoughts.
My turncoat lover.
Michael Sep 2018
Complicated words, drawn out phrasings.
Lines that flow like water and perfect pacing.
Truth from the heart, no more, no less.
Converted into art, forged without rest.

Your tongue is a hammer, nailing bars into place.
Ornate articulations to fill out all the space.
Between every line is a moment of awe.
Study it well and remember it all.

Maybe some day you'll take center stage.
You skipped the last step, so now you read off the page.
They applaud you in dim light, you make your exit.
Raise your head high, now you're in orbit.
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