Soulless and selfish
Prove me otherwise

Full of senselessness.
he seeps
withers
grieves.

Arts and crafts for the soul.
forming thoughts out of visuals and sounds.

weaving
a basketful
of images to save in my memory bank ...

Occasionally documenting the silence.

itching and aching
raw and anxious
red and sticky.

warm.
deepening.
a candle is meant to melt

The walls feathered, and everything loosened and stood out
No body questioned anything, none stood to strike a shout.
Oh how the calm of paranoia hushed through the day-
That is to say, maybe the air there was too thick anyway.
Grace had not started in, and there was no thought of creation.
It all makes you wonder...

*Does any of this exist?

Everything tastes like a distant blue-
As I inhale a scent swimming in pools of gray.
The back of my mind crackles  and flickers
Within a dim flame of black and white.
The air is restricted to catch it's warm breath.
There is  hesitance and reluctant dissonance
Which is sweet like clean dirt.

Nothing to believe, nothing to be still, no one to bury me.
A quiet cold confronts quite disgruntled complications,
And contradicts a subtle faded thought.
All my brights and dulls caress my body
Leaving a film of dust and desolation to shelter my mind.
Ripples of confronted perfection penetrate my chest,
And life grows distant as I become colorblind.

There is no serenity in slumber.
I'm begging somebody to shatter me.
All of me is captivated in confusion, and summer's sun has set.
I'm steady staring at a world on fast-forward,
Standing still with eyelids stitched open, and lips sewn shut.
Nothing forgives or gives in, and
All that is symptomatic is synthetic and systematically copesetic-
Like the lackluster of lament which lingers  lethargically above me.

But when breath stops short and suspends in the air,
And nothing is to beckon or call it back home,
One finds themself empty, and free-
*And nothing matters anymore.

Quiet...
Smoke smoldering holding the heat in
Hot skin unfolding steam
Controlling the pulsing thump in your chest.
Sweat collects and shimmers settle.
The wetness of ***
Bathes my soul in serenity.
So don't just touch me,
Feel me.
Caress the concept of my breath on your neck.
Explore every pore, lusting, begging for more.
Let me lick your fingertips
Then feel them slip down my hips
Trick me into tickling temptations every wish.
Then just kiss me tipsy
Teasing my breathing, I'm dizzy.
I'm thinking this feeling is instinct.
Instant magic- making it's beauty.
Believe the ease of self release
Then just take me,
Make me,
Feed your needs baby.
My body is burning for your energy.
Know I want you, and want you to want me.
You only can hold me
And hear the harmony.

Word.
A pretty vs vicious
Sometimes inconspicuously meaningless
Infinite means of comprehending communication.
Someone once said
That what's felt in our heads
Wasn't meant to be let out
For have no doubt,
Nobody will ever understand you.
In attempt to sum my thoughts up
I got stuck in a wasteland
Of dismal debris
Leaving me to dissipate through the fabrics of existence.
Look what I have left
An abyss of familiar frigid distantness.
This is meaningless though,
It's getting older
I've spent too much time without respect for order.
Left to float here in between atmospheres
Creating cosmic desturbancess
Throughout desolate universes.
This curse is my burden
Burning me deeper with each breath
Just to check if I'm dead yet.
But don't bet it.
I don't stress it, anymore,
Still not sure if there's anything out there at all.
But inside there lies light living,
Burning just bright enough
To keep the bag of faded gray dust
Slightly a-glow.
Just know, I cannot explain this
With a *word.