Flowers creek
against the pressure from
The wind,
Subtle melody
Erupting in a
Brilliant burst of
Melancholy. Seldom does the
Breeze go
Noticed. These bones
Will soon begin
To rust, laid
Placidly atop the aching
Blades of grass, soothed only
By the
Chanted promises of
A bitter tongue
Safely lodged within the moist mouth of
Godless head
Of
Thick
Tangled
Hair.
Abrupt reconciliation realigns
The spine as the
Soil remains ever
Inviting.

The words
That slipped unguided, that flew
Into you ears
Unsupervised, that leapt outward from
My teeth, flailing
Unintentionally,
Those words were
Deeply rooted
betwix the life I lead &
The one
I merely
Dream of...
Those words were
Drunken
Whispers that clung to
My lips in an
Increasingly ravenous fashion the
More I carried on.
brought on by scented winds;
Their fragrance intoxicating
Any sense of inhibition
I once
Possessed, labeling me
Inadequate
In my
Present form.

First the chest, than the limbs; Feel it alllllll the way to your bones & back, til you're properly consumed. Nights spent with eyes peeled open, eyeballs clinging to the darkest of shadows, fingers twitching at descending cars.

Yellowed skin stretches & retracts dully. A subtle sigh rings true in every ear that cares to receive it. Now cue the slow guitar, now cue the rhythmic human hum. This is endless.

The essence in the message of the lessons that we learn
slips freely through our minds
as our skies erupt with dawn
& the slimmer that the waist line begins to dimmer
down, the slower that the
smile erupts beneath
that frown.

You'll hear a pop and
a life time of
silence, this malice is unquestioningly
slow. Rapid hand gestures
blur and halt, as the shallow
drifter stumbles
on.
Soft skin
entangles, as your breath fogs my glasses.
A vivid note twangs forever
onward, though this ink quickly
dries.

Are these smiles self-satisfactory? Are these subtle
movements worth while? My lord, these
colours are being misinterpreted. Skin
twisting, eyes
singing. Several rays of light
are devouring the
paint. Crawling among the grind, I am
the forgotten, the
dust. And, of course, you are
in the clouds, you fantastic
****. I want to
be reckless, but I'm feeling so
uptight.