So there's this woman,
like a new Lamborghini,
Keep in mind
the age difference.,
upsetting
was this" creep"
labeling
and asking
just as she
had new
private plates
on her car.
My travesty
was my poetry
she asked
me
to write freely.
I always did,
but broken
was the
agreement,
as I saw,
others
could see
so clearly.

So detail matters,
in this ****-hole town,
where I met,
this daisy
Never poison could grow
in not this but the how,
have you ever eaten her hair
without physically
but metaphorically,
You watch as she's deep
but not in her own wounds....
sipping apricot  flavoring
of beautiful deodorant,
It won't lead to her room......

I don't know why I write,
when my mind
is a Rubik's cube,
and I feel inside
hollow through-out
like a carved
cliche pumpkin.
I'm blinded
with myself,
so I can't even
help myself.
I have only
my brother's
pick me ups,
light as a feather,
and I can
write again,
to my pretend God,
to who I wasted
away with my eyes
straying from his.....
A 6 pack of beer,
followed
by ciders on days
not even weekends.
I wish I could venture,
outside to the world.

what gives,
in tunnel waves,
a burial,
a three sixty
of tumbling
of the numbing
a red forest,
sleeping
needles here,
gently
pressing
against
her chest....
Painful
tomb,
not here,
near
to explode
near
her womb.
What's real,
a here,
of an object
of a princess
not crumbling
to your wishing
of her seas
Just leave
and her sleeves
in defense
of not wish to be.

What truth hides
behind locked closets
that we bang
and try
to smash down.
Infinity
is eternal,
Your voice,
sweet to my throat.....

I was out of line
when I unlocked
and the door creaked
and something clicked....

Smooth shiny hair
in a bar of moments,
tender sweet flesh
I wish I wasn't there....

I wish I could escape
outside the mirror,
the abyss of gibberish
is all of something
like drunken-ness

Best friends like
a married rapid couple,
and I so much wish
it had remain so......
Your winning personality,
I guess just won me freely
without your heresy.

what is truth,
in a tender
folded up
and masked
up box?
I don't
recognize
a devoted
taped
here
rapidly
with her claws
and the ifs and hows
in the addiction...
of unwrapping
Why am I not dead?
Its been said
in gentle guitars
of no more to be here.
They won't tend
to who I need here....
I care about,
but I don't do scars...
I'm so sorry here.

Truth seeker,
hunting the hunter
or the huntress
eccentric poets
bizarre motives,
but interesting
and fascinating.
Unwrap that string
so tangled in knots,
future teller of
which it brings,
a day seller
a night calmly sings.....
Pretentiously
and weirdly
My poetry
brings fools
to their knees,
Am, I cool?
A fascination,
morbidly
and curiously?
I am the double agent
Don't **** with me.

I'm not in need,
of inevitability
of planting a seed
when the weeds.....

I step through
a horror show,
of this proud
of show and tell.

I become greener,
as the weather
is stormier,

I hate this world
and the way you hurl
the abuse when I'm
the storm and voice
to an inner chaos
carries the echoes....

....wet clothes.....
hair dripping wet
I can't think
I carry no bets
to their perversions,
she was just a friend.
I ruined it completely
with this **** poetry.

A coffee in the subtle,
doesn't carry a title,
and I miss those moments.......

I miss the bus-stop cheap feeds
and I never carried that seed,
I just loved you as you were
and not as a Goddess of her.....

So you live the high life,
as swamping on egg-plant
and the salty of the seeds.
You brought nothing
to your troubled life,
your father, excuses,
mother so proud
and yet you're so alone....
I too feel the high
of no gift of suicide,
its brings no closure
to these fights,
repeatedly
in my head,
if my mother,
could....
well,
I did
forgive
I don't
know
how to be...
she's been dead
for a few years.
Yes, I'm troubled
but you were
the ignition
buried in my head.

Truth is overblown,
like a rhino's horn,
Children of the corn
but harvest's is born,
And river's overflown
A water's here of gown
of a little one so flown,
from her mother's
arms of the dare
of tortured of academy flairs

A tidal wave of raging smiles
to echoes to armies in the world
A child and her sandcastle
that she built so proud....
momentum here as we see....
The invisible *******
and to the hell with them
for the disgusting visions
and of destroying, kicking
thinking I would not see it,
leave her beach-little
kingdom,
stop realizing
her little feet
smashing an easily commodity
found in every city
...
and it makes me sick.
and so easy at ease,
little socks rapidly
may save the children...
if they were spared
the eyes glowing heed......
with flaming heads.
Is a heart once filled blood
and of muddy of the black,
Can they be ever be saved?
Or the rambling of the lambs
Can they keep up the bloodily....

what burns as badly
as a pressing
of clothes
languidly worn
in the ****** past,
there's no silver star,
its killing me to wish
not for a bull with horns
Its hurting to try to win....
I've caved in Empires
in the closure of caves
just a kid pretending......
There's the eyes ahead
but not above this sadly.

the wrecks
of motor crashes,
limbs flailing
and red hailing
Its art red here,
we are in fear
of the chaotic
of we'll be dying
without injury,
I hope its your
simple heart
and not the
pumping
of adrenaline....
I always
as this child
held my breathe
and it scared me...
I hate to think
I understood
scorpions
and the
new
beginning
of their sting,
it torments me
in such fear
every night-mare,
since I had seen it......
A bug let loose
against its cool,
and it was never
a pretty sight......
there's one point,
we'll be back as one,
we can't escape em,.
and I torment & hate,
their hat tricks
ruining rest of me
in a pile of sludge
It goes back to
high school wedges
and popular laughter.....
Evil  always the names
and yet popular on twitter......
singing cursed on here
I am your opportunity
and your disease.
You don't remember me....