(20 minute poetry)



On a brighter theme
there's  a meme
they made
from the corpses of
the last crusade.

Social media aside,
out have got it in and
inside got us out.

The little victory
a seat
that someone saved
for me

when things are sent to try us
why not
try them on for size?

back in the moles lair
underneath
Canada Square but
it's a waste of my time
on the
Jubilee line.

Disintegration like
hesitation
is a slow business
and I'm getting there
slowly.

Fighting inertia
while
submitting
to atmospheric pressure
( which doesn't feel heavy )

but I'm collapsing
trapped in
the traps.

I should have eaten breakfast
taken some toast
made it last,
and at last
I'm here,

no exhilaration or
exultation,
it looks and feels like
I'm attending my own
exhumation.

On a brighter theme
which I cannot find until
the sun comes up
and changes my mind
I'll switch on
the headlamps.

An excellent plan
Will never be realized as such
If it is executed poorly

- Hadrian Veska

Saving my totality's cost
from further damage,
Against an independent variability
Called  " t i m e ".

And w/ an intercept always constant
No matter how gradual time changes,
Made me  i n d i f f e r e n t ,
From this point forward.

Now, even if million constraints are made, BOTTOMLINE:
**It's only meant to break-even.

You couldn't wash the blood away
Running to the sink

But the well ran dry
Pulling apart your skin
Trying to hide

The crime that you committed
Alone in the dark

Chalking up all the silly remarks
Staining your soul
Along with your shirt

You had no idea you could cause this kind of hurt

But the point wasn't to cover the sin

The point was to live in it

To breath it all in

Suddenly the sin is you and you are it

And the blood on your hands was simply a hint

At what you truly are
A little old flame
Sitting alone


*eating hearts