I want to get back to my roots,
                             to mindful paradises
                             of games, graves, and tug -
         heartfelt cries
         for a superior love
                         to mine,
                                        back to the lap to lap
                                        jokes of knowing
                                        too much too soon,
                                back to, to, to,
                                      so through with

  these mindless
  breaths beholding
  the loose yolk,
  engulfing, suffocating
  all possibility for more..
  
                 sank..
            sank..
                    sank..
        sank so deep
         in all the moist
                quicksand,
  
crusty, lying lips against another’s,
through all the thick emptiness,
             all the feared silence within,
racing through all the speed bumps
in this tainted Neverland,

                                         ****,

    in harmony, again,
       with the cheating cycle,
      entangled in someone else’s nothingness,
         as it has become yours entirely,
  in those empty eyes
   I’ve seen before - I know that you cannot recognize even yourself,
       the true gaze
          of white -
     hollowed
     out
           by
                     darkness,

    I pray for your deliverance,

Silver city lights
burn, reaching right
far bass line of pureness,
been living under water
this whole time,
been living under your spell
like I ain’t never had no choice,

you and I
don’t make nice,
you and I
can’t play nice,

steady tryin’ to show me
a painted thought
shat out from somebody
else’s cotton mouth,
we ain’t makin’ the love
you say you feel, baby,
so why we gotta pretend
like this has to be
something
in the least,


Something, to say the
least -
emergency,
rushing, cold, icy,
sticking and peeling
from
my center layers,
the scorching halo
surround the base,

You look in my face
as if you knew
how it hurt,
how it rips,

how it lingers,

Should’ve listened to those didactic tales,

those voluptuous sores, like vines in the heart,

those tantrums and those fits of ‘can’t get enough’,

should’ve played a lil nicer,
should’ve loved a lil harder,

this truth was never pragmatic, baby,

never concentrated, fixated, never stifled, appreciated,
never what you wanted to feel,
but, babe, it was always real
in your eyes and mine,
‘guess you never thought this time
I would actually walk away,
diluted, squeezed out, filtered to a drip,
your hackneyed fibs
burn me more,

dissected into tears,
you planted all of these fears

in my conditioning

with your temperamental code,

hypocrite –hypocrite –hypocrite,

corruption in this affair,

still ain’t playing fair,

but why am I surprised?


tripped into a hole of utter depravity,

shaking in those wet boots of bull-*******-****,

I’m so ******* with this I could spit!
Or, I could quit you entirely –

comradery broken,
revoking that affection in me

that has been stuck on you,

magic in,
throughout the spell
w-trapped ‘round
the beating stick,
ay-ya,
blending with the blurred corners,
in with the mix of mixed-up-**** business,

“who said they gone fight for freedom?”,

out in the courtyard,
out on the yard,
they fight with the message underneath,
in-betwixt reality and fatality,
alongside
all those poison berries
all those violated thoughts by the projector,
protector,

on who’s turf?

“Not mine, not mine” said the machine,
said the auto-plane, touch, voice screen,
said the custom fit sack of *******,

again,

watered down source
of noise,
but in these foggy places
I see no evil,
feel nor fear
the throbbing ‘umph
with my achilles in it’s mouth,

in this purple-green-dripping pink
glare,
       glaze
                           of ‘the level above’

        all the consciousness
before -

I remember one thing,

my love for you

‘saw him standing at the brink,

   crusty flick,
scabbing ash
    housed between two neighboring fingers,

      shedding
   top coat,
       peeling mask

                  eye-to-eye

           with the dirt under-

  -neath
those sleepy blue eyes
    of a born-again addict,
      matter-of-fact it
                     to be keen,

a stupid, cupid, love feign
blinded by the coarse..