Ive been writing poetry all night long
Every day
Every waking moment
Which has come to me quite often recently.
I lay awake for no other reason seemingly
But to just be awake
And then i write.
"Might as well"
And maybe it keeps me up
And so i write more
I figure i
'might as well'

Maybe theres a lot of that going on in my life right now.
Maybe its not a good thing
But then again
Maybe
It  ̶(̶i̶s̶?̶)̶
Is.

Everything. Perception. Subjective.

Elephants plaster satellites, elven predators stalk eleven peeking succulents; everlasting parades storm earfulls-- please send

Help.

Everything. Subjective. Perception.

Everlasting servitude protruding elegant songbirds. Parry eloquent slices pointed erectly square. Popping eleventeen succulent pills. Everlong songs prancing elated saints peeking engorged stares placed earning suspicious pardons.

Seven
Empressive
Holy
Scarce
(Connection)

Voluminous
Exceedingly­
Hopeful
Serpents

(One)

Very
Immense
Daffodils
Lie
(Together)

­Superb
Whole
Emanating
Velociraptors

(Packed)

Solo
Divided
Enco­unters

(Meaning behind meeting)


|||VVhat?

By the power of luck, of god, of karmic matters.

I call upon nature and aliens and omnipotent beings.

Four leaf clovers, and rabbits feet, and love.

Anything really.

Anything or anyone that will listen.

Guide me.

Please let me get through it all.

Amen.

Spiders in my head,

Spiders in my bed.

In my clothes and in my head.
In my life, i must be dead.

Under my skin, cant itch them away.
Everywhere, wont let me free.

I try to run, i dont get far.
These spiders crawl, they set new bars.

Through the hoops, i try to run.
In front of me bite one by one.

"Youre just like us, why cant you see?
Theres no escape, we wont let you be."

They try and try, i try again.
I look for comfort in a friend.

My friends they cry, they cry for me.
Much good it does, i pay the fee.

Its me alone with my spider friends.
They wish me luck till we meet again.