As
I
find
love
The whole universe cracks
And the fabric of
time and space
rips.

I feel the darkness
Creeping in again
I don't care
I embrace it

It is part of me
As i lie here
At three A.M
Without a care in the world

My thoughts are my own
Who are you to tell me
If they are
Right or wrong?!

i have tried every attempt to convince myself
im not in love with you.

despite the fact that you still curse my dreams night after night
and every idea I've ever had of love goes back to you.

despite that being around you
gives me a high no drug can compare.

despite that
im a liar.

a liar who can't
stop ******* being in love with you.

Found a lady the other day,
Older than time itself.
Outlive the dinosaurs,
With wrinkles that touched the ground.
They were large enough for a child to swing in,
For me to use as a hammock.
She says to me “do you love me?”
And I say yes, but only if I can sleep in your skin folds.
She has ended homelessness,
By just existing.
People have found comfort in an old lady’s skin.

All I manage to catch are glimpses. Peepholes through time and space.
Small ravels of memories I had before this time, before this space. I try to catch them, but they’re always out of grasp.
Like the light that filters through the rustling leaves of the tree. Appearing and disappearing without a moments notice.

I go towards these memories, hoping to achieve them, but I’m always pulled back down to the memories I possess now, that stretch over the ones before, and I forget. I forget who I am, and I remember who I am not.

It is confirmed
You have a highly aggressive form of ***


© 2019 MJL

Writing like it might matter,
not sure if it ever will,
but I’m liking the patterns,

emo’s composed in prose,
everything is real,
hug from a bear kiss from a rose,

forget the reference if you don’t already get it,
just don’t forget to remember to feel,
on the stage of life everyone’s a critic,

way past the line of scrimmage,
no gimmicks it’s all real in the field,
can I get a witness to this existence,

it’s ambition mixed with persistence,
if the pen is a sword then what is the shield,
could I please get some assistance,

people sticking their nose in where they have no business,
please let’s all take a moment to yield,
life is too short and time is only an instant,

a moment can’t hold it I think I’m slippin’,
trippin’ not fallin’ blessed with omens & skills,
equipped with an awesome equilibrium & instincts,

every thing’s mixing every one’s trippin’,
releasing toxins & catching feels,
publishing photos of self that come with clever captions,

producing pieces of prose as a thesis composed of our existence,
which seems to lead to an honest way to heal,
or is at least self perceived to be something that’s significant,

though in most instants it feels like nothing matters,
a fever & chills sets in as all intentions are revealed,
silly human there’s only now no before nor after,

writing like it might matter,
not sure if it ever will,
but I’m liking the patterns,

emo’s composed in prose,
everything is real,
hug from a bear kiss from a rose…

∆ LaLux ∆

SF
2019