Thunderclaps in the ears,
A crown of grey hovers,
Sordid and sorrow,
absurdly familiar with a half smile.

Ironic and inflated with nerves
Of rubber bands, atrociously
Used to the jester's tears
And the slow agony of its entertainment.

And we stand when it hurts,
Pace when we are worried,
Let us walk the daily grind......

Through it all we cry and fizzle,
Drowned in the warmth of the tears,
The pain is familiar, the saddest clown!

Matter can not be created nor destroyed.
Is it the same with love? I wonder.
Perhaps just our love.

One does not create it,
rather falls into it,
proving it's existence.

Love is never lost,
changed only.

It is a chemical reaction,
serotonin
and oxytocin.

The dynamics of our love have shifted.
Once drowning in a volatile sea,
I was obsessed.

Then lying on a dry cracked bed
just as damaging.
Where did the love go?

Into you.
Osmosis of love
through parted lips,
gyrating hips.

Do not pretend that you don’t like it
when we have mind ***
you sigh! and said to yourself
“I just don’t get it..
That was so awesome, so real
Who need them?

everybody liked me better when i was on drugs.
and i liked everyone better
without their
hot  heads
and sour sober tongues

chilled  to
the bone.
emotionless.
numbed up on cherry

coke

is what pleases this palate

like a dish best
   served cold
with a sprinkle of white trash garbage
and
a side of
i forgot i ever cared.