What can I say she liked it hot,
she called it her pepper of lust...
         Every so often
             she swallowed the seeds.
I've never known anyone sweat
           so much without chewing.

What can I say she was a woman
of adventure, never turning away
from he heat of the moment..
    She drank milk
                      to cool herself down.
I've never known a woman to
swallow so much, drinking from
the source asking for more...

"You can only milk for so long..

Time had passed,
and she needed to take this
              Jalo-***** deep,
to feel the heat within herself.
She was never shy of her skills,
              taking the seeds deeply within.

Well she had tasted it, sweated when
it lingered for a time within....
               But after a time peppers wilt,
not of there own accord, but over use.
           She was a woman of fiery lust...
But never fear, there is always tomorrow,
             My seeds grow fast..
She'll get her sweaty fill,
                   she'll just have to wait,
letting these hot seeds grow once more.

Nightmares linger before me,
staring into pools of
                       my consciousness.
Fishing deeper within,
                           hooking on
                                   my deepest paranoia's ,
          then I scream silently within.

I'm mute to the content
of others misgivings
            of my silent ego..

Clambering upon my
             every concern,
  yet I'm deaf to their every syllable.

But in reality I don't give a flying ****...

It weeps flakes of time on the
unforgiving floor below....
     like leaves never fading
              stagnant greens linger
deformed by there empty moments

Contorted panels showing the pain
of there absence from the world.
              A glass panel cracked beyond
its sight, distorted reflections collect
fractured rainbows never reaching
                                      there *** of gold.

When the wind cuts upon its shadow,
   this door creaks open, falling to splinters
beyond its creation there is nothing waiting
just an empty space...
           Shut for so long lingering in denial
that beyond it lies nothing of interest..
    it lays on its hinges, a dead tree felled...

The crows did hover above life's crumbling
shadow, never one to be swallowed in the mumbling
screams of what kept even death away.
But life hangs like a noose slowly eroding the way.

Tears of black feathers fell, as darkness sailed on
a sea of eclipsing movements. Twilights black swan
collected on life, and then was static as life bled feeding
on the misgivings that fed a misguided needing.

Shallow where the echoes beneath onyx feeding,
as glimmering hope faded and the inevitable pleading.
For but one more collection of endurance fading.
Then silence as clouds descended, how death became degrading.

My attention is hammered into being,
           as the anvil of my motions
                      are moulded into  formation.

Heated in the furnace of
                                       my subconscious.
What once was just white heated noise
       now moulds with each hit of reasoning..

Our thoughts are always being sculpted
               in the milliseconds of there creation.
Some aren't as we wished,
             misshapen syllables are reheated
to verses later hammered into cognitive thoughts.

*"Our perceiving is moulded with wielded
                    blows that form our every sentence,

Flies crept on cremated wounds
                       that had healed untidy..
stitches were never removed
they just descended within
                               suffocating the scars..

Scratching at there depth
within.
              The conciseness
       that caused the cuts to linger.
But still they bled internally.

Your scheming of false fears
            will be actioned upon...
Your just a canary in a coal mine,
        not realizing your already dead.
suffocated within a dark place..

I'm never going to heal,
           but I'm never going to
suffocate on my ego.
         Yours will just sing
till no one listens, sing silently little bird.