Here I am in comatose
Damnedest man I did so boast
Paralyzed from fear I swore
Succumbing to eerie voices galore
Here they whisper, there they shout
Forgotten longings in endless bout
Obsidian spires do so climb
Monoliths rising to the ashen sky
Molten magma in a blazing doom
Had I one wish it would be for you
Blind and petrified I do become
Only to hear a chilling song
Come back to me so she says
Or you will be stuck in choicely dread
She says so true and warningly
But I could detect a wanton glee
Had I a voice I would so cry
Come save me darling my dear divine
I had not the eyes to see
Barren wastelands singing to me
Thuds and croons echo all around
Was it a corpse or am I nightmare bound
Ever so close they are I feel
So I thought to pray but my legs fear to kneel
Abandon all hope they scream and plea
Singing Devils wrath is waiting on me
When I see him I will hold true
And tell the Devil to take her too

Whether you wanna wear that yellow sundress,
or the black pants, but they require press.
Whether you wanna wake early morning,
or stay awake late nights reading.
Whether you wanna play a song to dance,
or a calm music to get a stance.

I wish those were the type of confusion,
Life tossed upon you in profusion.

It feels like a slow death creeping,
Cracked windows like bad lungs
Bring in the wind like this house is wheezing.
Only wanted a happy ending
A purpose somewhere within the reason.
You change your mind as frequent as the seasons.

I’m falling further down, autumnal
Where your cold winter heart beats
Springing growth to a cancer, terminal.

I’m an open wound,
But you didn’t see the stream
Blood so calm it looks like a ravine
Red wine splashing on the tile.

Is this what you wanted from me?

Thought that I would possess you,
Like a demon taking hold,
But I know it just upsets you
Tenebrous fingertips can’t reach from the phantoms of your dreams
To grant you a taste to your hungry lips.

Doesn’t matter if it kills me,
Or what rips apart my torso
Tie me to the horses, and let em go
Collect my piñata insides like it’s candy,
Bittersweet the way you land these
Obsessive little ramblings.

There’s a hole in the fabric
I’m reaching through the spaces
Finding a nook I can escape in,
This is what I mean when I say I plane switch
Fly over skyward, spacious-
Always pushing up my smile for you
Like a facelift.

Is this what you wanted from me?

Crash on through my gates,
And storm the walls,
I won’t protest you,
Even if you take the gun and press it to my temple
Ask me if I still believe before you **** my god mode
Take everything from me until I’m hollowed.
Carve me into your perfect mannequin man.

Would that make me your favorite color?
Would it ever even matter, even if you had me on your shelf?
Would I not still gather dust, not enough ?

Broken in my mind,
Shattered pieces of heart
In a room where the black contrasts
With the bleeding neon lights
A prism of blue and purple hues
Capturing the funeral of what I stand to lose.

So tell me…
Do you see my open wound?
Is this what you wanted from me?

The conscious sea arrests hold of me,
Collective knowledge streams to my head,
With new eyes of three, I now can see,
I’m swimming in secrets of the dead.

A tideless sea, of consistency,
Not up nor down, behind or ahead,
All Life dissolved in pure unity,
All life woven from a single thread.

One drop is whole– The Entirety,
Reality fits on a pin’s head,
Uprooting all I thought there to be,
Replacing it with nothing instead.

Thoughts absent beyond duality,
And time crawls while elusive and sped,
All is formless unfettered and free,
And no words say what needs to be said.

Is it the words that flow and rhyme
And dance in rhythm, keeping time?

Or is it a line
That breaks when it wants to,
Not when it’s told;
A thought
Spilling without apology?

Or 5-7-5
Secrets whispered by the wind
Words, though few, sing true?

Perhaps it is found behind coughed petals,
Fourteen lines aligning to pave a stage
Where lovers for love charge into battle
And hearts are found pierced or tangled in rage

Or ten words, though short, a poem for the world

Or the sun spilling gold across the sky
Painting clouds as the sea drowns its light.

To me, poetry is emotion;
Memory,
Ink spilled where the heart leaked
And it is not meant for everyone