Quiet...
   .. .
      . . .
         . . . there are feathers here.

The blue you use to wear me clean,
knows nothing of the day-stains
I wear.

They do not care.

I am purified by your blue,
deep, a shade beyond the glow of nostalgia.

Come to me again, in this copper fever dream,
rest your temple before me,
that I may make an offering unto you,
oh Queen.

I could only count so high.
That was my regret.
It's a secret I'll always tell.
So accept me, my sweet meats and myrhh,
toma mis lágrimas, y arreglame.

Mija, if I could
I would reverse physics
eliminate the gravity wells that pull
you down.
That leave you starving weeping bleeding
hurting,
crushing you within themselves,
beyond the event horizons
the tragedies in your life have left.

But I am not that strong.
I cannot alter basic
rules
laws
components
of reality.

I cannot save you from the monsters in your head.

I cannot guarantee that you will always be safe.

I cannot say I will always understand.

But I am strong enough
to hold on to you,
beyond the event horizons,
until my fingers
are stretched by warped Time,
and I no longer exist.

But I will fight the monsters in your head,
until I no longer breathe.

But I can guarantee you will always feel safe.

But I can say that I will always listen, and try to understand the
nightmaresandtearsandhurtanddisintegrationofyourchildhood

Because, Mija, I know
that there exists light
beyond the dark break
of your event horizons.

Do you know
that you are a light in my world,
that you are the smartest girl in the world,
that you are the sweetest person in the world?
Do you know
that you are the most beautiful person in the world,
that you keep me together,
that without you I'd be completely lost?
Do you know
that I'm not going anywhere,
that I'm all-in,
that I will fight for you,
for us?
Do you know?
Do you now?

the trunk, withered
the leaves, fallen
the Winter, dark

And as I sat there, in the midday
That tree like family skeletal
My hope was present
My hope was bright
My hope was you.

The world today
Stopped in mid-spin
Fed up with the shape
That man's put her in

Gone on too long
With his selfishness
Putting a stop to it all
The world thinks is best

From the building up
To the tearing down
The ever persistent
Obnoxious sounds

With no peace at all
In cities or towns
Over hill over dale
In leaps and bounds

From the arguments
That always ensue
The world's had enough
Of me and you

The blue of the streams
Now brown and green
When the world tries to breathe
It comes out a sneeze

Which creates havoc
Throughout the land
From earthquakes to tornadoes
North, South, East, and West

That's why the world today
Stopped in mid-spin
Putting all of this nonsense
To a bitter end

Now all the world does
Is float out in space
Peaceful and relaxing
Without the human race

My favourite pet daydream,
(her combustion creates me)
that I eagerly await
to set fire to flames.

She lay in her victorious gesture,
a breath of longing,
stutters dislocating his jaw.
Her illumination, a scent memory,
she was the most acute,
vigorous testimony
of truth,
of history,
his feeble heart
could dream.

I'm filling the void
left by your absence
with **** and marijuana
and I'm so sick of feeling cold.

The flowers, red and violet,
bend away from your light
and they just won't reach to you
the way I wish they would.

I'm an old man,
sipping a drunken melody
in this claustrophobic daydream,
and my heart just feels like Winter.

I'm leaking thick drops of lust
into the naked nothing
surrounds my chest
breath, a Liliputian task in your absence.
My weariness, a tourniquet,
gauze, wet, etches the corners of my mind
I'm swallowing water, child,
and this undertow is just too strong
for treading.

I'm not the power they say I am.
Lost and curdling in my corner,
a broken, brittle man,
shaking in the recesses,
corners in which a
faucet drips blood.

So break, baby, and run.

I am a symbol of death,
and my name is rot.