Where I met allure
she was my craft inured  

that round my futon
when her neck was born

ready her an all nighter
with vita relinquished

uproariously keen in swelter
but really resurrected platitude

a scorcher for sure
and dreams whetted with desire

while attire was crumpling
here round my dumpling

the weather most attested her rap
that I'd relish her bare

much than sympathy again
always tile her spree.

That feel when
re-burn fills bowl
Queen/King
out of gold
No clean smoke
No hairy rip
I scavenge
for oasis in glass
ash trays
Expect the soft
kiss and faint
*** sweat of old dreams
but the smoke
blows out and once
more the world shifts
For free

I can smell the fragrance of the sun while beaming on my face.
So heavenly and refreshing.
An aroma I never smelled before,
It made me smile and blush.
Hiding behind the clouds, so coy.
The sun peeked and smiled on me.

I see you drivin'
'round town with the girl I love
and I'm like haiku

Living in fresh hell
is so hard to break.
When the volcano of life
threatens to spill and
burn everything in sight.

I grow tired of you hurting yourself with me.
You learn to hate me.
We don’t talk anymore.

My nightmares become fatal.

I stop responding because I don’t know how to answer, and I spend Christmas alone passing out wine-drunk to Naruto. I’m not sorry. My mother calls and I don’t know what to say, and neither does she. Then New Years Eve approaches like a dark cloud to water our crop, and wash away our debts,

but

my acquaintances want to have a fistfight, and I’m asked to be a witness in the police report [but I clearly remember nothing happening, through shades of alcohol].

I clearly remember at the beginning of the night I told you I don’t **** with cops.

Yet, now you’re surprised it makes me uncomfortable.

My daydreams grow immersive. My gameplay grows sloppy.
My reactions grow dull. My body grows weak.
This stranger tastes like cigarettes.
I don’t clearly remember the rest.

Little droplets of blood,
Like little sprinkles of rain
Sadness was like a flood
Only dammed by my pain
My roses had turned to ashes,
With petals made of glass
On my arms were gashes
As I waited for this feeling to pass
The world spun so fast,
Holding onto a knife
I was gazing at the past,
Unsure of my life
For you never know what tomorrow will bring,
If with sorrow you will cry or if with joy you will sing