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Mar 2011
To talk from a mouth that one does not recognize
No sound to be made from mammoths that lay dead
Frozen
Trading tokens
Wishing to God they'd made it
Just to see another day
The glory of the light is bright
Blinds many
Confuses millions
The flick of fish fins
Tiny is a world when the catastrophes escaped on waves of brilliant globalism makes ones that have never wept weep tears of experience and surprise and disdain and remorse and sadness and life and happiness and regret and money and love
A number that fits in the eyes of a spreadsheet
Is printed out, given away, thought about and thrown out
These are the hours of blistering heat that will burn the skin of a thousand innocents
While the many that have passed the threshold of human thought
Wish they had never lived this long
A feeling
That is a feeling that only comes once
That is thought and mused about
For the rest of one's life
Turning the makeshift bread that mother made
Hands clasped with never a word said
A debauchery of the common normalcy and currency of mankind
A farewell note to the wishing well of mystery
****** it to the dam, all throughout the land that produced these hands
A situation of uneasiness, invisible in form
Where wrong is translucent and seems incandescent
Beautiful in its magnitude but rotten to the core
Beating like the black heart of the devil that just chose not to fit in
A lonely kid
On a lone cloudy road
With no mother
Or no father to know
Sister said that the bed of the divine would soon be wed
But she fled
For something inside, something hard, a thing tasteless and way away
Made her feet twitch,
Her skin itch,
And her eyes swearing to head to a watery bay
Not a thing known
Nor a thing sworn
A ****** of  a metaphor and all the things they swore that'd bring you peace in school
Now makes you sit and in wonder of the feeling of the fool
And the pool
The magnificent embroided embarrassment swirling high
A home away from home
The listless endless womb
Whispering a name that is not known but known
Your bother in a brother
Your mother from a mother
All in a smother of delicate sprinkled lover's
A delicacy of infinity that burns bright, sits tight, talks in tongue, and is only seen in the one's with dangerous and lustful fun
Written by
Mitchell
1.6k
 
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