Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Cole Nubson May 2016
Death hot and cold bites at my lips
The tremble in my leg as I stare at the floor
I cannot remember when my core was eradicated
But I can remember how it made me feel

More so I remember how it made others feel
and in their eyes that's all there is to it.
As if it were selfish that I slipped and fell
And now I have a broken foot that I cannot recover from

I could attempt to say something bold
Like that I love you.
Or that my plan will work out in the end.
But I cannot make up my mind.

All they gift is their apology.
They didn't do anything wrong.
Why are they sorry?
They shouldn't be sorry.

I ***** profuse
on my bed sheets
alone at night in my mind
I fall asleep comfortably bleeding

I ***** when I wake up
and a fog horn goes off
Someone wet the bed.
It was me

I drool upon my car horn
Someone cut me off, me
Someone, cut me off, me
Someone cut me, off me

I climb a tree in the forest
density holds me safe
The branch is broken
and the wind starts to shift

I made a crutch from the lumber
As I seeped through the air
And I lept from my tired eyes
on to layers of pine needles

Beams of light seperate my brain from my mind
I cannot turn off the light because of what's inside
Bees fly in to pollinate me, they sting me simultaneous
How was I supposed to recognize a wasp

Yellow and black look the same to me
Both acidic and both crucify me
crunch down the subdued pain
of running that hasn't ever stopped

I could take a breath
and realize how far I have fallen behind
Or I could keep stabbing myself
Until something comes of it.

Will something come of it?
I ask this God, then the next
I respect a good intention
but I cannot agree or comply

Im addicted to telling you things I shouldnt
Despite making me feel incomprehensibly insane
I am tied to a tree and unable to fly
So I am a sick dog who barks at all strangers

Strange that I act alone
When I have so much on my half
But my half is only a fraction of theirs
and theirs but a sliver of the earth.

Darkness owns the other half
the physical entity of space
You cannot light up one side
without darkening the other

So when a comet burns down to earth
I cannot help but notice what it's left
A consummation of being the brightest of dark things
but the darkest of light

I cannot speak like I used to
I cannot cheat myself of a new thought
Because as much as I've felt like this before
I've never felt quite so harrowed and shrouded

I am clean, wrist deep in mahogany
But yet I am lost and mopped up by a pigeon
I picked out my own innards and laughed
My lungs are not yellow and my heart is not black

My lungs were pink and my heart was raw
But now that it's out I cannot replace
nor can I face anyone to operate
I'm drunk and stumbling to the morgue
Cole Nubson Mar 2015
A lily pad over the humble
Stringing through my veins
the willow filling down to tumble
fighting through the stains.
Cole Nubson Mar 2015
The field gray
The grain stay

A white dress upon the grass
Silver lines drop down the glass

A small hustle to the house
A tiny trouble that leaves the mouth

The scorch without a scorn
now the wake, how she forlorn
Cole Nubson Mar 2015
miss the smell of your hair
Gondola, swings, no final fare.

Well I think it's in-genuine
But genuinely I miss the scent of sin.

Serenity in the the trace of tires
Skidding, softly to the suns fires.

Where parasites would've given up
Divine is dinner is not enough.

Breakfast at four to carry us down
The sound of a left desire begins to compound.
Cole Nubson Feb 2015
Vincent Van Gogh forlorn
weep, welding minds' pretense
the past, in present form

longing for my answers
in the blood crescent shaped
lies sentiment cancers

cross eyes on the belt loop
you're twirling and twirling
it will melt like your hoop

under the umbrella
is there something i missed
the wind it propels us
so we're lost in our bliss.
Cole Nubson Jan 2015
So many things fall like lumber
what am I to do
I forget, for-go the rainy slumber

I'm branching, reaching,
falling

It's all home in Michigan
back to the woods
Not room enough for one more sin

You're moving, screaming
dying

You want me to bring you down
"I need to see what's there"
Somewhere deep beneath the ground.

We're sitting, silent,
mourning

Left it all on the record player
Can't believe it's been a year
Wish you'd left a second prayer
It dried out within sincere

Many things do fall like lumber
what am I to do
I forget, for-go the rainy slumber

I'm branching

reaching

falling
Cole Nubson Jan 2015
Father said
He went

Further send
Cement

Honor with it
Extraterrestrial

Horror spinning
no more celestial

You say one
Do it all

The pavement
through the wall

Posture peripheral
white glow

Monster in Montreal
flight show
Next page