Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Moonsocket Dec 2018
A body full of habits
Most of them nonsense
A world full of madness
Act accordingly
Been away for awhile
Moonsocket Jul 2018
I can't handle the scrutiny when my mind mutinies and I begin indulging the delusion of a fun house constitution


When nicotine from a thoughtful fiend is like performing a poor rendition of empathy

...its a fleeting remedy for this elusive void constantly seeping

Voices crowd the ceiling and I have a feeling the expressions that accompany a dawn dazed confession will make this timeline lay low in hopes of a saner discovery

Brains full of pinball malfunctions this junction has no written direction or meaningful connection gleaming

We fall have crazed waiting for the day when reason ascends this fray and finds a world worth clarifying

We echo nonsense its just the consequence of gathering just to displace silence in some chemical pledge so our thoughts can hedge their bets

...never get caught on the edge of haste and uncertainty

You see...
Societies favorite formality is the one that requires smiles for savagery

...but peering into the mirror it is clear sanity has yet to show a flaw worth savoring
Moonsocket Jul 2018
Here is another spoken word from a reading full of blue in a room of clues as to why we all gathered here to share our silent moments of uncertainty certainly I grew up in a food stamp paradise but isn't it nice when being raised on r ratings and nicotine isn't the worst fate for the hate of accidentally existing inside a stranger that was never intended suspended inside this method of madness that only comes sporadically systematic while lacking the schematics for clarity why I'm a product of a fun house mentality so you see its not always up to me when the words spill or the shrill ringing of writing until asphyxiation because scenes dissect when they do what else can I chew without clearance or an appearance of sanity I swim in remnants of peace when I forget to breathe or conceive a world without an ink stained funnel for this morbid curiosity we feed to offset the mediocrity of a T.V persona existence this persistent need for violence is almost an impulse we convulse with a dark euphoria screaming gloria into the train wrecks broken neck headlines splattered with genocide cowboys and plastic pondering while the wondering of a reasonable whisper fall victim to loud speaker urgency
Moonsocket Jul 2018
Why should I rectify this gibberish when I see you micro managing madness with fistfuls of sadness I must confuse the bemused expressions who refuse the notion that gentle hypnosis is a back alley psychosis how nefarious when strangers reprogram a subconscious claiming electricity is tasteless even though I know this hell is faceless its a symptom of dodging complacency so before my mind goes let me free flow like a freak show even though I know I'm speaking hysterically into empty spaces where my downward gazes find hands like phases not a correct callous in sight but the night always reveals a mindful monster with pull string monotony and a silk stuffed voice box eyes like key hole perspectives and blue screen lock go ahead and mock this sincerity derived from a dive into pure obscurity these flaws rust this hysterical mechanical jaw now muted by the awe of virtual sunsets and chemical skylines dotted by dead satellites and styrofoam clouds choking birds now the words confess somewhere an electric wire congregation thins while insect empires binge on a world free of sky high predators still they live in shadows of suited institutions manufacturing delusion like it's a cure for reality
Moonsocket May 2018
I am an advocate for strange...

My mechanics are blissfully malfunctioning inside an accidental existence..

Everything is hilarious and nothing makes sense

T.V personas injecting membrane memos like its a vaccination for reality

Reassembling minds like factory precision eager on the assembly line

A convenient god for your more hysterical notions

A high priced fallacy for your comfort

Sometimes we mingle in the middle
Striving for the prize of nearly existing
Moonsocket Apr 2018
I'm sorry...

I did not witness your emphasized spirals of sickness until the day your mind resigned and declined to leave a message before you leaped
  Mar 2018 Moonsocket
Shaine van Brug
In my dream
My teeth fell out
And in my dream
I didn't want to marry you
Because there was no love
I held hands with a man who might be dead
And it's what I wanted

I can do this
I can work and disappear
Carving myself down
With each pounding step
A repentance of sorts

Becoming still within myself
Becoming hard and duplicitous
A reflection in a shiny knife
Because it's what I wanted

There is no punctuation in the language we speak
It is not important enough for that
All of it a run on sentence
All of it enough to destroy me
It's what I have wanted
Next page