Chewed through lip
Copper taste and other shoe’s drop waits
Nervous habits of caffeine neuroticism.

Seems to me
People fail see
What’s important,
Really,
Until what they truly
Want is out of reach.

Depicted perfectly
By this lonely
Soul, failing
Ultimately,
At finding intimacy.

Creativity contrasting corrosion
Of will
Or motivation
Add another apathetic
Night to
The blur.

Inspiration insufficient inside
That well
Or pit,
Staying stagnant, sniping
At flaws
And weaknesses.

I can fill my own shallow grave
You always said I was too vain

But you are too bland
With the vanilla ideals you seem to depend on

So I can't sit here, and watch you do it
Although it would provide some entertainment

Once, I was agile
And I spun webs of golden lies

I was a spider in my nikes
With eight shining glass eyes

Now, I lure you down to the reservoir
Where I'm face-down in mud

I did love you, truly
I just must have loved myself more

Write a song about me.
Illustrate me in your novel.
Remember me.

As I slowly slide down steep sided peak
The idea occurs
“Is purpose portrayed in progress?”
The mutable perspective of time’s fickle trickle
What experiences we lounge in
Slow boredom
Slippery distraction
That glacial crawl past pain
The ever fleeting ******
Senses suppose suffering’s supreme,
It seems.

Sour mouth truth teller
Spits on the graves of
Vanquished foes
Vanquished friends
Stares daggers at
Jealous lovers
Anguished loveless.

The taste of words and grapes.