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Altug Aug 2018
simpler hours- parcel of delicate childhood recollections.
flaking by the sweet, solemn whispers of remeberance.
a longing seed who seeped from my juvenile soul and drug itself directly below its feet- feeding into the loose dirt of our starving earth.
giving animation to the trees that mutate into robust vines- who bergeron and persistently haunt the hollows of my head- thriving ceaselessly.
serenity cowards and curls back up into itself.
Altug Aug 2018
her raw moon
blue and bitter
her festering flesh screaming at my shadow
let me ache and worship the deep crimson stain upon her satin bedsheet
but never fiddle with my dream
Altug Aug 2018
decomposing between chapters of dense sludge
compress my lungs with hulking burden
**** me further into the vacuum void
i wish i could feel you
hacking violently at my delicate chest
gradually peeling back my loose skin
exposing organs tucked away behind a field of frail bones
i allow myself to drop to my knees
Altug Aug 2018
does it tear you apart to know that
even if
i pried your eyes open
all you’d see is
the pitch black void
i see through your skin
peering at your bones
you look just like
everyone else
Altug Aug 2018
they constructed emerald empires through sweaty stale palms gripped tight enough to slip thoughts through their fingertips
they pressed their bodies subtlety to suddenly sublime
astral projected their cavity of captivations
just to tear them apart with their own heavy hands
Altug Dec 2018
she brings the rain
with every fallen foot step
the earth is scorched and branded
with every whisper the atmosphere is pierced and vulnerable to void
with every shrill her tongue is sliced and bleeds a flood
but with every seared imprint bloomed the blood stained roses
as with every murmur shed the skin like light upon glum
and every vocal vibration fed the vast wizened grime
she brought the rain
Altug Aug 2018
the tangible body is never truly free
after all, this is why the mind exists
as it allows the figments to develope, where would they fly?
i often wondered what bird would sit on its own wings
to keep themselves from escaping their caged heads
Altug Feb 2019
if a clouds’ tears were to pummel away at the pane of my bedroom window any time before then, i would’ve impetuously disregarded its entire existence and drifted to sleep only to dream about festering psychedelic abstracts.
that wasn’t the case, though, not that night.
rain fell in pounds from the leaden sky and the only thought i could conjure
was you
you were a thousand miles away, but every rain drop that danced leisurely down the glass, just inches from my face, felt like they could be you
they embodied the fluidity of your mind
i felt like it was
you
so much so that i wished i could leap out to lay out on my roof top and soak up every droplet till my body became an ocean
if it meant i were to finally feel you
because you are nothing short of
a comforting scent
a song
a dream or even
a poem
so when you finally do become tangible
in my arms
it will be reminiscent of smelling a rose or a daffodil
or the way a song makes you feel
or the mood a poem can bestow upon you
and the imagery it engraves into your skull
you shall embody that which cannot be felt by bare palms and indefinitely more

— The End —