My own darkness terrifies me,
I am right to be afraid
For there is nothing...
Absolutely nothing,
That I wouldn't do
To avoid this unforgiving hell

© 2014 Peach

In secret
Words prepare dialogue transporting emotions like pilots
With no mercy words turn around and get messy
Placing Vaseline on dry throats speaking levy
Lips on skateboards sniffing the ground for reality’s ride
Electrifying plots against blurry words with
no physical basic thoughts thinking dialogue cravings
Untidy tiding plots buried in baritones hurried to hire imaginary thoughts
With no mercy things get messy

Stainless inks get messy

Poetry comes in speed bumps
Never the less poetry comes in speeds
Bumping speed bumps

Bump all slumps
Bluffing word bumps
Bump all stunts
Puff them hard till words provoke gumboot sounds        
Bump all ink pumps and thirsty thumbs                                                        
Speed bump conclusions jumping resolutions around
words spoken in gibberish gigabytes per seconds smelling leverage
Amplifying televised revolution on repetition far from average
                                                      
Paralyze those walking eyes
Bumping rhythms
Dusty broken chests serving overcrowded greeting lines
On solo mode
Flirtalicious solo chaotic modes                                                            ­
Bumb connections around chairs warmed up by bums
Speaking the same womb and rhythms

Brothers and sisters chained up in pairs and bums
enslaved by messy word poetry speed-bumbs
Words get messy with no mercy on lip bumps

Those messy words camp behind bushy brains
Rail track through lips with no vibrating mercy veins                                              
Affiliate with true bones
Crossbones carrying history's forgotten side bums
Instrumental bones
Stinking hip hop bums speed flossing word stunts        
Words dig up chaos with no mercy                  

Armed with no rounds
Pounds stolen before two rounds
Sheriffs secretly scared of their own uniform sounds
Shortlisted words saving society's bums
Words are just messy and profound

a.s.

Thanking you
For the kindness
That lives inside your heart.
You are a friend that’s treasured
You are truly a work of art.

Your sincerity
Shows in everything you do
And people like me are thankful
For wonderful people like you.

a.s.

The thirst is real,
it’s a desert out in the real world.
Most want more,
though identifying selfishness,
does not affect this society.
Almost everyone wants a full cup
and it will most likely get filled to the rim,

Then spill.

a.s.

Inevitable in life,
the new life draws in me: a small
sun with roots that I will have to water deeply
and push to fights their own battle
against the weeds.*

a.s.

2 am is for the poets who
can't sleep because their
minds are alive with words
for someone who's not there.

for the alcoholics drinking
themselves into amnesia to
forget someone who left them.

2 am is not for the lovers
asleep in each others arms.

It is for the lonely, the ones
who are in love with the loved
but are not loved in return.

2:36 am
a.s.

Solitude makes me happy
Because solitude means there's no one there
to judge me, to hate me, to question me

Solitude means that despite being alone
I'm not lonely
Because I have myself
and I'm the only one
that can truly care about myself

but then again
I don't even care

So, solitude can be dangerous
Because when I give up
Caring about myself

Self destruction
Can be, oh so, tempting
Because when I no longer care

I just
give
up.

a.s.

I have known the taste of salt water,
and the smell of decaying forests,
and the cracks in hundreds of sidewalks,
I have loved the gas petal,
and the airport concourse,
and the ever-changing time zones.
In all of these places,
I've found a home in not having one,
ready to admit,
you'll never catch up.

a.s.