In the orange cream dying sun's half light
swaddled by blankets wrapped in dirty clothes
I open my lips wanting your taste
eye to eye, mons pubis, warm fragrance
To offer myself and soul over completely
When we were young did you ever think
we'd drown in the ocean of flesh between legs?
She smiled brightly, made noises
overjoyed much more than confused,
though that's not the story now, is it?
In an instant passion rises up with steam
gone again before I wipe the mirror and
brush my teeth, and once again I see
blackened debris, they're rotting out
from misspoke verbs
All that's sweet now is the imagining
of diabetic what once was
Two closed eyes reach back with a breathy sigh
withheld truths and well meant half lies,
cannot inspire lift again that left me,
but that doesn't stop the faithful
Has the tide this whole time been sending
waves of false hope, on which I'm floating?
Daydreaming, heating oil, she wants dinner,
and I hunger for satisfaction in new pictures
A hand for a finger, a tongue from both mouths
comforting by grabbing hungrily
until heads get thrown back, abs tighten
when pressed to relax, on the rack
stretched but both floating
Why does she want to drink my blood?
I don't ask just imbibe in return
Those days are long gone
Times when the worst thoughts could not undo
whatever flicker remains in the waning brazier's ember
I don't believe in YOUR “God”.
I don’t believe in anything.
How could I?
Why would I?
They tell me to pray about it..
Pray to who?
Why would he listen?
Who is He?
All of my life,
It has been shoved down my throat.
This “religion” of sorts.
Never can I get a break.
I was taught that your “God”
Wouldn’t accept me.
That I was a disgrace.
Why would I believe in someone like that?
No, I won’t believe.
I can’t believe.
Even if you think
I should believe.
Ya really got to wonder
how the process really works
Turning food into something
closely akin to mud, or dirt
Eat that steak or yogurt
and magically it seems
It's turned to something brown
as out your ass, it streams
The mysteries of waste
a defecated product made
simple fertilizer proof
of something, now decayed
It's a total wonder
as joy upon release
a crap that feels so good
as defecations, cease
God in his infinite wisdom
created life and everything
as bowels, are emptying
Life is always beautiful and colorful.
But I'm not so sure I'm ready to be joyful.
Dear friends, and soulmates-clear your duties for today.
For, now is the day for getting free of things in our way.
Dear friends- we don't need a long time.
Just some free room and some free air to roam around, and feel free.
Don't judge us by the burdens we have.
But, by the activities we choose or refuse.
Call it an instinct, or an intuitive feeling;
I've got my life in order for the dealing.
You've got troubles, I've got mine!
There isnt much to say
My mind refuses to think at this time of day
My hand refuse to move in that form or way
My lungs refuse to breathe, held up with clay
My heart it will not beat, it simply lay
I dont have words to say
Until you cross my mind at break of day
Until you caress my hand in that certain way
Until your lungs clear mine, free of their clay
My heart can not not beat how you and I lay
I refuse to accept the fact that my soul was made to endure nothing but sadness.
I refuse to accept the fact that the atoms and cells inside me were created to endure nothing but a feeling of hopelessness
I refuse to accept that fact that my plan here on earth was to become nothing out of everything
I refuse to accept the fact that I will feel nothing but emptiness, a feeling of nothing inside of nothing.
I refuse to accept the fact that I can only hope to act out of the need of hope
I refuse to accept the fact that I can only sit and wait to move
I refuse to accept the fact my body wants so much, but does nothing
I refuse to accept the fact I have no will power to change
I refuse to accept the fact that all I can do is refuse
I refuse to accept the fact that
I refuse to accept the fact
I refuse to accept the
I refuse to accept
I refuse to
The Age is coming
All seems to return
My world is upside down
My heart begins to burn
Beginning to rise
And everything I've worked hard for Slowly beginning to die
Smoking more and more
Popping harder than I've ever done before
By the minute
A thousand miles a second
Slowly shutting down
I wish to keep on going
But I've seem to hit the ground
I need to get my head on straight
Before it's too late
And I become addicted to this state
It cannot be silenced
I will write,
I will sing,
I will do anything to set me apart
From what I'm "Supposed to be"
Because normal is boring.
I don't want to be,
I refuse to be another face in the crowd,
I want to touch people with my actions,
With my words.
When I die
I don't want to be 6 feet under ground
With a face nobody will remember
And no difference made.