Pleading for a purchased god
Romanticized for its ancien régime Celiac, and yet I licked the wheat paste Of the letter I was was trimmed A4 In all that time spent by the basin (and its traffic-trimming wetlands) I only rode my bike to the depot To color code my calendar When capital kept its calls collect, When the gravy train kept me idle Each chamber would be emptied Fruitlessly: punch drunk with praise (Indulge a little) Each from four through five: orchestrated The plains always claim the sixth (Respecting the tradition of western folk) Only three will ever threaten treatment
A stream-of-consciousness bout of grief over a gravy train and the threat its indefinite departure presents.
This gentle flow takes control with perfect form, dark eyes match and connect in the same breath.
Warmth spreads from head to your *******, lower realms swirl in the depths. Skin glistening. Bubble up, subtle touch, fingers search inversed. Would rather tingle your thighs in line with my neck, criss crossed in ****** to snap. Head tilted back, quiver and spasm as your chasm erupts. Hushed sighs in a rush collect. Congruent thoughts mix in our heads, mind *** fulfilled through this text. Open your legs as your soft lips kiss with delicate sweat, thinking in sync when you stroke the same sense. All from the chest.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
"Do whatever makes you happy" Don't mention the cost of it though You do not know the price until your choices Come collect and tell you what you owe In moments you don't realize Consequences of what you do Only after it's too late You can see what would have been best for you Some decisions too expensive Until you get the bill you won't know By then you can't go back and choose Different directions to go So bear in mind that every action And mistake is a tattoo No matter how costly our regrets Every one we can never undo
An old one from 2017
I'm still me
And we're distant now I've gotten stronger And growing loud Sometimes I wonder If you hadn't gone Extending hands Vast beyond the sea Collecting deep-colored shells For a heart severed-to-be
Fallen stars on parched land...
Brought with them a piece of heaven... The child in me ran to collect... in fragile hands... To hang them in tender threads from the window... So as to light up my heart upon a dark day!
Sometimes a sweet memory of the past is all you need to brighten up your dark day!
Vowels and consonants
Pool together into words As my emotions rain down The grim and grit Of every memory clings To each sentence Until I step in Then they collect on me Dampening fingertips And soaking my tongue I jump in Splashing out thoughts Until I am coated in my imagination I stomp through The puddles of letters Saturating me with words And sentences are dripping From my chin
Time is a construct of
passing frailties, We cling to them more so for comfort. Not realising that we're already an echo just rebounding off the moments that have conceded to a passing that is bigger than us. But still we live for those mere seconds, for meaning. And to show that even though we were just a flicker, we burnt brighter than a star.
Is burrowing a web
weaving a collection, accumulating an anthology For a far gone day Stash them away set them aside with a what, when, why rather than right now ambitious zeal discoverable. findability. Its the nature of the undertaking. My minds an unavoidable reciprocal Gratified by wasting time, It’s just there filling space Tucked away for a rainy day In every nook and cranny Tickling the fancy. Affording a kind of intellectual gusto that's borderline deplorable accumulatively downright trifling. Nonetheless, even if it's unnecessary I'll never get my fill paper to hand typing away uncovering all of life's mysteries
If I could collect every negative thought you ever had about me.
I would blow them away like a dandelion wish.
Sometimes I wish I could just start over with some people, the ones who judge me before they ever got to really know me.