How familiar this dark feeling
of being given the gift
only to wake from the mist of a dream
and find only torn wrapping paper.
Know that when you touch my hand
a comparably sized fist of energy
lifts my rib like a window blind
and wakes a tired muscle from dissolution.
The horizon in the West is a golden peach
but only through the lens of smog
which tells us this beautiful lie
in apology for its slow caress of death.
Some of us were born to spread a terrible disease
and can only hope to dress in colorful beads
of opal, purple lilac, and quartz
lest we let it feed on our own unbecoming.
I will not say I have not carried a sickness all my life
-- dragged this rotten sack of fruit through the dirt
in hopes of reaching the earth's end
to roll it off into the infinite black.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 12:10 AM UTC
How familiar this dark feeling
of being given the gift
only to wake from the mist of a dream
and find only torn wrapping paper.
Know that when you touch my hand
a comparably sized fist of energy
lifts my rib like a window blind
and wakes a tired muscle from dissolution.
The horizon in the West is a golden peach
but only through the lens of smog
which tells us this beautiful lie
in apology for its slow caress of death.
Some of us were born to spread a terrible disease
and can only hope to dress in colorful beads
of opal, purple lilac, and quartz
lest we let it feed on our own unbecoming.
I will not say I have not carried a sickness all my life
-- dragged this rotten sack of fruit through the dirt
in hopes of reaching the earth's end
to roll it off into the infinite black.