i remember when the sky felt blue,
when the grass felt new,
when purple flowers newly blooming begged me for sufferance,
carrying a scent no one remembers and that cannot be replicated
the poles felt electric, the week felt ecclectic
the lights had color that the past took with it, whimsical,
they took the time of day with them as the moon ascended
and the air began to smell of night
imagination took flight in our fort beneath the stars
we felt something from passing cars, and the existence of mars
the night burned slowly as we barely slept, as colors whirled and drifted by, as tangible as the air, and it all felt righteous, it all felt fair
love, i dream of you
mind is lost in a
cast upon me;
my skull is a
waiting to be
up by some loving
THEN the skies bellowed a frothy glitter and d o w n became up & sideways turned horizontally truthful said the vegan Aardvark.
THE Policeman chewed his m0uth-side and a Red Ant crawled out from his nostril ****-us (Quatrain 173) & my pillow has luscious lips from some disembodied woman who once cared for me. The rest of this delirious-prose is buried in an unmarked book within a discount store on the far side of the Moon.
Fall in and out of depression on a whim.
Fall in love and leave her alone on a whim.
Give a love away on a whim, and end up alone.
Give up a friend for absolutely nothing.
All my fears and hopes bury me in as I lie through my teeth, I'm losing myself to myself, to a future me that doesn't even exist.
dissolved into a spellbound state
to realms that were once beyond reach
light upsurge, pumps inwards then out
in its race within the bloodstream
through you, through me, Straight from heaven
Silence is an ethereal beauty,
So relinquished and hated upon,
Those who do cannot recognise.
They take no time to understand the joyous warmth.
They cannot accept and allow the time to process their own minds.
For we are not adept to allow ourselves personal reconciliation.
For the silence so many see as an entrapment is in fact such a sanctuary.
To alleviate and grow.
To process and to flow.
To develop and to understand this narrative is a means to progress,
For we should not feel trapped in our own head.
I nearly started to hyperventilate,
Because a thought occurred to me.
I thought about how long my tongue is,
And how it goes all the way down my throat.
My feet can feel the ground,
But I can’t feel my feet.
Mouth is dry,
Eyes are red,
Where is my ******* head.
I feel like a space man.
Here comes the police man.
If he asks for papers,
I will answer “scissors.”