Physical exertion, that exhaustive feeling, pushing this broken body to its limits.

This is true freedom, for a moment all of the clutter unifies to defy annihilation

The whirlwinds of thought, ignite into a ferocious storm of gestalt intellect, racing to the end

Alas, the only goal on this horizon is a graveyard of   discarded memories, each step further until, all is forgotten

I roam from here to there
Until i’m everywhere
And everything
Dancing in the graveyard of my past,
cracking the bones of our memories
Beneath my nimble feet.

I dance until my soul is dust in the wind
And travels across bodies of blues,
And greens,
As purple women swim ****
Before my eyes.

Their energy morphs into beams of light,
Until all that’s left are fantastic flames,
That illuminate
The voids of spaces,
Purple faces,
Blue auras,
Green eyes,
Red flames
That burn beneath me
As I descend into the evening,
Falling to my knees and praying for beautiful Death,
For we are familiar friends.

The reaper’s boney fingers grasp the curves of my waist.
The silence is our music
As we waltz for centuries in one moment,
as I watch history unfold
before my purest lense of perception;
A kaleidoscope of fear and love,
Like two opposing warriors holding hands
And sharing secrets.

I wake up from a dream in a cold sweat,
Spat out by the portal of sleep.
I celebrate nirvana,
And thank Death, as I swim in it's dark nebulous.
I await the universe to kiss my eyes
And ask it to release me from this endless wander
in this human form

The hour: the hour was grey and heavy laden
The ground was cool and damp when my eye fell upon that fair maiden.
A collared jacket pulled up to her chin
A vague smile stretched across the ashen light as I thought about her uncharted skin.
I knew that we were foreordained to dance.
Her hand would be mine if given the chance.

The taste of bitter wine was on my lips, and someone else's hand was placed upon her hips on that day in what was a
cold
sober
October

A bell: a bell that tolls for lost souls has me (cringe) stone white.
Thirteen strikes move me closer, and I dodge each cavernous hole in my adverse plight.
The name that each leaf whispers is Crisp and Wither.
Her heroine eyes beckon me to come hither for I draw near and nearer, on that cold
sober
October

The misty cold.
The misty cold...
'Twould be a blazing fire within my bones if not for that ****** misty cold.
Warm me now; I take thy hand with thy ring that I place upon thee from the kiss of the sea.
One day I too will greet thy queen and upon her sleeve she will bear my love as we walk down that isle on All Hallows' Eve.
I take thy hand and place upon thee the kiss of my sea.

All is naught or ill forgot; for I stand ***** upon that plot that dear October bought.
Filling my head with sense and thought and hoping my love would soon be sought upon that tomb that I too will rot.
In the misty cold, crisped and withered, toiled and rot; I want her mine but she is not.

So here I am, hungover in that
Bleak
sober
October.

Great Hollow She Home, the peacefully there's Mystery.
Dearly she labours.
Blood running, on to the summer flowers
WAIT till I come,

Left her, following low singing --
bare of everything

Let us go!
Go to the Devil!

Scorching heat and burning --
hang her by the neck

Thy trees mourned. She a Hollow labours....
Ah who was I that hidden from truly -----

Thy the end

Erected so obscure away.

A witch, indeed met me so a mole where willing made her but a match to liken potato and let her teeth beside with a grail that she'd throw a kiss into a prance when beyond a dark corner near square could race to our legs with a carton of eggs and nearer the place that toasted our evening outing perchance with dinner hid in graveyard.

I taste like heaven and hell.

Like the nightmares you had where you were left in the middle of the ocean.
Drowning
You woke up crying.

Or the one where you watched everyone you loved die.
But
It was you shooting.

I taste like the hidden corners of your closet where you keep your diaries.
With pages filled with how you’d touch me.

I am the burnt sugar on the edge of the pan.
The drops of ice cream that leave your fingers sticky.

Lying on my stomach I remember the way your fingers felt unbuttoning my flesh.
The way your teeth left cursive along my spine
Beckoning me to open like a book that you were never allowed to read.
I will unfold for you with the promise that you will only sign your name in blood
Along the edge of my sanity and only if you take me out of my mind.
I am not looking to lay anywhere except six feet under
Where I can feel your fire without fear of burning myself with your flame.
So I beg you-
Cover me in gasoline
Strike me where you please
And leave your sigil in my ashes.