Bedecked with a halo of dreamy
Daffodils
Cooing Dracula from the windowsill
With legs outstretched
Sensless to feel precious
To someone you
Just met
Jagged fingernails tapping
On the back of my neck.
Lymph nodes rotting in
The sunshine with the
Whistles dripping down my
Boney spine
Cars crashing on Sunday afternoon
And the milkman is late
Head hung low in the steam room
As we evaporate.
Pieces in contrast thrown
Together in Frankenstein
Dimensions.
Taken apart like an insect upon
Inspection
From some schoolboy.
Try to string myself together
As my seams start to combust
To make myself over as
Someone who can trust
Sharp concoction of spider satin
Caused my sheen to waver
The skin has wrinkled and been
Discarded on the floor
Disheveled as some records in an
Old tin drawer.
Without passion
Lifeless to lie about the
Surrounding hypocrisy
Shatters the storm colored skies
The dark days trapped in
My ribcage
Breathing deeper so
Sunken in by the daybreaks
Careful gaze
Sinking deeper into the
Toll buses swollen chairs.
Blushes shaken awake
By the rues of
Translucent eyes
Alike the gleaming orb of the
Werewolf's demise.
Gawking into a
Crystal ball struggling to forsee
The oncoming chill of November
Why November?
Among the ****** empty spaces
Among the smosh pit parade as
If misplaced in fields of *****.

I resemble a vampire
Just alienated from the
Human race
The years of unfulfilled schemes
Written upon my face
I seek out a safe space by an
Acid lake where I can lye
Awake, dreaming.
(The howls of the busy ether
Dissipate softly)
I'll dip my toe in the acid lake
And hallucinate forest sprites
Dancing on an acid lake
My eyes will roll to the back of my
Head and I'll remember once more
That I'm not dead
I'll tread to where the cement turns
To red-dust and the dirt will kick up
With remnants of surrounding bonfires charcoal black on the smoky ground
Echoes of laughter will hang in the air where only bears and mountain
Lions find home
I'll roam alone by the acid lake that looks placid by day but turns a
Vivid sheen by night.
I'll tell no one of my secret place
And hold my tongue when people
Wonder why my dilated pupils seem
To wander.
And why I resemble a vampire.

In the city streets where
The populace is excessive
There is a restless buzz
Folks flock like moths to flames
Yearning for the smog to
Burn brilliant holes in their lung
The immediacy
The newstands
Springing into the bustle
Is akin to a sunflower
Blooming from within
The dank earth
Like a potion that promises
Immortality
A deal that tastes like kinship with
The source of life itself
Reflected back by yield signs and
Neon lights flashing on the pavement

My displays are astounding
I regress to an infants zeal
Because I hate everything around me
And need to tell you how I feel
Tell you things of sugar rain
And crystal  mines of lore
Cuddle my ribs with pure disdain
As my body washes to the shore
Hey man little village
Hey ya the leaves are brown
Hey man the trees are changing
Hey ya they're falling down
Symposiums with the fey are symptomatic of enchantment
(Or insanity)
Seeing beyond a day
Of desolute drudgery
The eyes in my head keep assuming I am dead
(Those whispers from the back of my head)
And the fear of living is the wound of
Re-living what another might have
Said.
Hey man little village
Hey ya the leaves are brown
Hey man the trees are changing
Hey ya they're falling down
Crickets outside are singing so
Sleepless nights feel less lonely
Cannot decipher which side of me
Is dreaming when I'm awake till
Early morning.
Hey man little village
Hey ya the leaves are brown
Hey man the trees are changing
Hey ya they're falling down.

Words are only words but cause her stomach to turn.
She will not keep silent what belies
Within her
Unduly saturated by emotions.
The vast depths of her despair are as
Unequivocally beholden as
Her coarse sensations of elated gratitude
Lady Liberty with her French countenance
Fails to gleam as vividly.

Somber dreams drifting away now-
Away from the spirits rummaging
Around,
From the ceaseless beckoning outside my window, and
From the daily toil of mortal coil.
A peace collapses my lids now
Soft as a satin feather.
While I lye inside my
Sapphire tower I escape from
The happenings when my
Eyes close as dew drops slide
Down the stained glass of
Saints and sinners whom wander alone
Dilated pupils over
Cursed lips singing along to a sirens
Song far off to those sunken ships.

Flushed thoroughly by
The sink, lukewarm
My face a weathered apricot
Pore-scape.
Mirror twisted like a landslide
Hushed glances
I'm bitten by miscellaneous pupils
And iris'
Widen'ed like copulation
Given honeydew twilight hours
Shaken estranged to breath cold and thick like smoke.
Crossing over-incarnated
Begrudgingly.
A longing for Rococo
And VW buses.