#day9
Secrets of Wysteria flow in the vessels of my brain
And so I do not hear, nor comprehend the calling of my thought’s train
Vowing to never be held again in constrain
Eradicating the rotten fingers pointing to my disdain
Muses of bruises, callouses, and roses
Excuses the clueless, hung in ruin’s nooses
Flagitious tongue sharpens itself with sprawling centipedes
Rusted teeth from perilous mandibles bleed as it feeds
On the oozing, ****** veins of the wicked ****** as it pleads
Maybe these are too much for one’s avaricious needs?
Mindful, careful, piercing the syringe of refrain on plump flesh
Yeuking as the substance flows on blood so raw and fresh
Amid all, the past and future gather in Sheol’s pavilion
But missing is the presence of present in emblazing vermillion
Yet fleetly missed as the siren descanted her composition
Somber statues of ivory pretense witness with volition
Saints and snakes tear each other’s throats in a languish cotillion.
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 8:15 AM UTC
I Will, I Will
I can
do this
on my
own, own it
I do, I don’t
need you to
hold my hand
I can’t wait to
be free of what
this appears to
be an .. an .. an
addicted, abuse
of substance, as
if that is like me,
to f’get that I am
part of life and
beauty, and all
that is stopping
me from going
anywhere w/o
you ever again
is stinking
thinking is
… is I am
need-
ing a
just
one
m
o
r
e
h
i
t
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 12:57 AM UTC