#pallid
The feeble glow
of yesterday's myths
and illogical legends
drift into obliquity
where the pallid shapes
of old friendships
and silhouettes of demented heads
merge
with a splash of light
on the satirical side of solemnity
in the pursuit of profundity.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 2:32 AM UTC
Whats with the attitude?
Why do you subtract so?
It doesnt make sense.
No sense at all.
Due to the past,
I feel nothing.
I am not sensitive,
Only specifically.
Get used to it.
I dont love like I did.
Beyond blue eyes.
A pallid mask is hid.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
as soon as these blue speckled
socks go, that's it. A new bright black death.A solemn weir on a stark horizon.Give me a reason to wear color. My hueless affidavit
runs me into the Earth, where I sprout up
a pallid keb- brain orf'd, you could drag my etiolated ebon
body through the ovine fold or take me to the theater. When I was just a minor teg, I sheared my mim kip, I fuckinggave it to you outright. In this little
cote my wan mien nigrifying; my calamitous black, quaffed full of congou in demitasse, of souchong & saucers. My atrous wethered body albicantly degenerating in the atrous sun. I'm crusting over with wanness and you, you're fortifying in the cwm where I used to yaff and stray. Your ovivorous hunger,something I never knew, when first you came for my jecoral flesh, just another bot digging through my soft toison. Like Dall's Prometheus being sheared from the flock-you cut me away. In this drab and achromic world, you put the wanness in my flesh, the gid in my heart. Still.
Just these blue socks are left.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 5:20 AM UTC