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nihiliti Jun 2020
steady hands to face
the day
and a heart full of

the thumping of feet
on the concrete
the rhythm and rhyme
the steady march of time

growing apart one step
after another incident
another needle
trying to find purchase
when the offer has
clearly left the table

walking away could be
more than just goodbye
more than a sigh into the
waiting void of the night
where our hearts are
want of light
like moths

all aflutter we come
crashing down after
leaping when we
knew we were gonna die
but if we flew
that'd be okay too

never told you
how much
life got in the way of
growing up
and growing together
like so many caterpillars
that dared to dream of
something physically impossible

the past is too much
and the future

well that's old news now
nihiliti Nov 2018
i am not a part of this
neither here nor there
for everywhere i am
i don't feel there

the trees are crooked
all is ugly up close
time will warp shut
the gates to Comatose

my heart is fracturing
fractal fissures happening
faster than i can figure
the math doesn't fit

everywhere, a stranger
every time, a danger
every song in major
distress and discordance

according to the angels
i'm angled wrong, all wrong
asking for assistance gone
with alliance to gods

relying on foundations
of physical renditions
of spiritual failures
rends my soul, not heart

yet my heart hardens and
yawns open and horribly
cracks like no young
body should bear here

yet, here i lie, broken apart
nothing works perfectly
nihiliti Sep 2018
stare through eyes
with the vacancy sign
neon green
seeing nothing
of meaning in the twilight
gleam of a thousand city dreams

dream that the world isn't grimy
shut the blinds and return to sleep
where people and problems are dilute
with the ****** we call

sweet, sickly dreams seem appealing
in that necrophileistic sensory release
way that spoiled milk spills in
poppy seed daydreams sprung into sunflowers
it makes sense since you trust me

see the lens is cloudy
and the aperture is the eye of
the hurricane in your head
so go to sleep, my love
nighttime is calling
and i've unplugged the answering machine
so your answer won't be
so mechanical
in the future

and the future in illuminated by
the light of a thousand sunny smiles
smiled because we are not in love
but we put on the best show in town
and people roll their windows down
rain, sleet, snow, or hail to hail
we the king and queen of
the nightmare we believe in
so deeply it
seeps through
staining our eyes a deeper crimson

and our son shines in the overcast sky
drowned out in a wash of blues
deeper even than the depths of the ocean
trenches we dug in our war on
and the idiocy
of lovers at dawn

dusk has come, and we are young and in

a deeply troubled sleep
too deep
to surface
again without our sin
everything lovely

so, darling, sleep
and dream eternally
ugly things
reality is the real nightmare
nihiliti Sep 2018
i am a moth drawn to the flame of despair
flutter through the air
no care
for body
just the burning of my soul
the yearning to know
what it feels like
to throw
everything away
in hopes
that dawn is close
closer then is possible
that time flows faster
when you're giving your all
for the promise of tomorrow
where tomorrow is
worlds away
from today
and its sorrows
and that sorrow will someday
be a sweet memory to borrow
from when the joy becomes
too much to bear

i am a moth in a world aflame
it looks like hell
but apparently
hell other people
and i'm sick of feeling
sinful for feeling
the sorrow of my fellow
tortured torturers

they tell me i'm too hollow
that riding the updraft is no good
and being tossed about the firestorm
is for fools
and i'm as flighty as a feather
in weather unsuitable
to be out in
yet i'm part of this world
and to lock away my soul sounds
so a throw to the wind
to see where it goes
it might singe
but it's worth it: the sorrow

i am a moth telling myself i'm not
and blaming it on outside sources
but being honest shows
my woes are my woes
and everybody knows
their own

and i just speculate and spectate; trying to know my fellow moths
you're not nearly as sorry as you wish to be, and it's awful
nihiliti Sep 2018
black and white lines
my mind with meaning
lost in the
cycle of searching for
something to see and
believe in that means i don't have to
be something i can't be
that perfection is possibility
and that--possibly--
i won't sink into
everything i need to be
to believe i don't hate me
and need to continue to be
and that living in sight
of everyone's
awful eyes
isn't as condemning as
i think it is
when i'm
not quite asleep
but nonetheless dreaming
everyone everywhere
hates to be
here with all our
collective sadness
and that sadness isn't
a death sentence
and we can speak something
else entirely
ennobling eternity
and our live so fleeting

this feeling is believing, so call me a saint of

on the one hand: scars--and on the other: the weight of hope held on to for eons
nihiliti Sep 2018
i try to breathe as little as possible
in order to leave less of a
carbon dioxide footprint on
the heights of heaven

to walk the halls of the cloud world
feels profane enough to ****
all the words from
my mouth; so shut
away my weakly words
whispered to the clouds
in hopes that god might hear

i'm trying to believe in magic made
in the speaking of dreams
and things the mind
so loves to keep
holding on to
the sorrow
i feel

but now i'm drowning in enough oxygen
to fuel the sun for millennia
to come in a future
without fear

fear that i might be living in times
deemed damnable by angry sky gods
of ancient times when people
lied more and told
themselves they were fearful
but proud to be so, all within
the same apocryphal breath breathed out

so you might have eternal life, and never make another sound
say nothing wrong
nihiliti Sep 2018
oval bubbles
distortion forestalled
just a little longer than
normalcy systems

and I'll system you
into the blue of one
thousand thousand seas beyond
my good graces

drain azure ichor from
gods long gone
from all we wanted
when we were young

yonder 'round Neptune
lies death in the void
of wisp-words whipped
through teeth like tears in the universe

you make me so sick

you make me death wish
and doom dance in several shades
darker than recommended--
wind in ethereal ears bled dry

would to the one
thousand thousand gods
you waste into worlds of dust
drawn from dark corners of

alternate universal commandments broken beyond recompense
In fact, I hate you.
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