my mind tends to ooze with a negativity
that leaks out & into my already searing
and prolonged wounds;
within this ragged & treacherous steam of consistency
I find myself laid out upon the very gravelish grounds
that I goofishly juggle with on a lazen basis
sometimes there
sometimes here
but a lot of times just nowhere at all.
where I disappear to I couldn’t be sure,
the empty screen in front of & behind me
don’t speak of much
but they do tend to catch my demiseful falls
every now & then;
seems these cavernous valleys have a soothing touch
to them,
a loosely held comfort that I know
better than I seem to know myself at times
and at times I wonder
what I am supposed to be protesting
within these grotesqueful lines
of a beautifully laid out tragedy,
for even here I do not feel
within the bounds of my own mental safety nets
but maybe an unthoughtful falling & tumbling
will do me some good?
to be comfortable with my own deathly summons,
I write to edge the demons within
to a borderline of both peace & content,
for truthfully no set of letters
can taint me as much as I might allow them too
although I can tend to lean towards the waywards
of an apathetic crustacean
through my own carelessness & ill suited
self brought upon lonesomeness
…
sometimes I cannot tell what is right,
or maybe best is a better way to put it.
for I long for a connection of connections
and equally equivalent siphonings,
but many a times I seem to find
that my end of the line has gone stale,
quiet, a desperate yet eerie monotoned scale
of solemn notes left to ring in the ears
of those who are strongly enough
to take the time to hear,
and for those that are not afraid to stare
deeply into their own darkened & blazeful caverns,
I am forever grateful.
