The Poet is at a loss
For words that cannot describe
What had begun
And had no end
Until he found his friends...
Dead to him.
He then became numb, again.

In my dreams
Everything is vague
The clearity will be there
When I open my eyes
And embrace this sleep-induced plague.

Concealed in my diary
in the form of words
my emotions explode
inklings of events
predicaments conjectured
or  sighs of contentment
vaguely interpreted
lights my soul
stagnant but painful
glorious yet tearful

I just wanna be alone
To feel silence to my bones
To sit and soak in solitude from all of you and turn to stone
To walk home and lose all of what I’ve known

Relish the selfish urge to purge the hurt
shelve this drone of words learned to cope under burdens spoke from our hopes into existence

A frame we placed to filter days from pain we tried to hide but blissful wishes died when those viscous lips of irony kissed us.

And watched reality twist us

So I need a minute
Forgive me or don’t
I see the judges gaze flare but I won’t dwell in it
I’ll be a ghost

Wrecked in the specter
Sector
Costumes tossed to the soul inspector
Lost forever on the road to a goal we expected to erode following cold sweat dreams deemed detrimental to the airships failing fuel injector

Time to get vague I think
Fly through the page and sink,
softly off the couch into the floor
to watch the ceiling fan pour air over a man
Lying but standing alone
Prone but brandishing
Handfuls of stones to throw

Stolen WiFi can’t repair
Windows to the life I knew
When the wind blows remnants Of a drive by through
To consume my attention with mistakes I made but hesitate to mention over this tie dye brew

This mix in my cup sticks to my gut and fails to repair the limp in my strut
I’m careful with the innocent buzz built to bury regret and I’m not even drunk yet so kiss my ****.

Wilt, wilt in silence, among the bustle.
An overcast prevails upon you.
Escape, and drown — submerge yourself in the system
Become the system;
harrowing sights have you experienced?
Harrowing sights you shall assume.
There is no escape, only entry.
Prevail or fail — to win or to care.
Such is the system of this land, the cesspools of vice are stagnant on top, ******* the light that makes it past the cover of clouds, famished are those who reside under.
Yet, every so often, a ripple of water drops into the river of despair — its energy coursing through the minuscule circumference of its impact— and it sits, sits atop the filthy black waste and slowly diffuses…
into the filth as though it belonged, to oppress those who bear the same burden.

Pearls keep descending from the sky
Rocks so taken over by the constant tedious attack of waves
with their greyish hue
and fierce fists
The abrupt slap of time
The thunder's wheezy cry
and the pending of a rusty boat say
the boatman's approach was due
but three hours have passed.
The bank is retired
and the moon burnt sands retreat
into the heart of ocean .
sharks feed on fresh flesh.
in awe of a blue tang's suicide note
My lover and I are sailing to the moon
to hunt down stars.