sometimes
i dip my
hair in herbal
soaks
in hopes
of turning
into
crumbly
man made
nature
and putrid
performances
of morals

someone stepped on my neck
while I was asleep
and pushed
until my veins
to my brain
were nothing more than
pressed flowers between
chapters of some book
butchered

no blood in the pages
just oceans of emotion
and empty words
to be swallowed
swished around
tasted
spit out
and extracted to ultimate
pretention

melting
in warm waters
wasting away
to sin and bone
with you
and letting
life ebb
out of my mouth
gasping for
air
in the most
passionate
of ways

There is a light trapped in her room
Where old cigarettes stain
the yellow walls
With a putrid
placidity
Not natural
not her own
like the rows on her hips
that wont fade
or the love stuck
to her already puckered lips
she can talk
but wont quit

It's deeper than that
she says
yet the atmospheric
pressure is still
and her mind

chaotic

  calm

      chaotic

             calm



                       crash