#succor
beneath the earth's soil
a vast network of roots lay
which succor plant growth
they ingest the loam's good food
through their subterranean sprouts
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 5:51 AM UTC
the sweet succor of
my own narcissism reflected
back to me from the mirror
in the bathroom; i am a crocodile
warming in the sun.
Mar 13, 2020
Mar 13, 2020 at 7:33 AM UTC
You had asked me once,
If I was in love again
If I had found another box for god to rest in
I answered,
Not then.
I have heard the god in you, the death that creeps behind your porcelain shoulders
I have heard the anxiety of life that guides your eyes to mine
At the one point you were afraid and seeking some gravel to place your shoes
you let the grains shift, licking your soles
There isn't a place here where the smallest atomic twinge of regret will not forever imbibe me
I am inextricable and intimately a child with the universe
I will forget to remember you then, and you will be the way all loved ones are dead to me
I will be alive and away
Love is a camellia blossom, she is the dream of the rosepetal
she is the envy of stems
She is a figment of the fractal dimension
she is tangential and perpendicular
I am a substrate
I am the loam and the cold damp earth
a dream of mother soils
the derided character of an oxygenated heaven
I die to give you birth
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 2:18 AM UTC
It just hurts.
I feel like nothing
no numb or pain
or rush to leave
I'm nothing;
intangibly here.
Listless
and restless
like the smoke
evanescing from
depleted lungs.
Omnipresent
consumption
constantly pressures
my mind.
My thoughts
compress my body.
I can feel them
crawling up my throat
strangling me.
I'm lost
in muted asphyxiation.
I'm always high now
pills or ****
alcohol or pills
it's not for the thrill
somehow
anymore.
Yet, I'm
always clambering
to get higher.
Reaching further
too high
too far
I'm gonna burn in the stars
and wash up
like the sky
on the shore.
There are
traces of love
diverged in
this outer space.
But who do the stars favor
if they're
indigenous to night?
To adore the Moon
and his
myriads of
wavering light?
When I'm
in love with the Sun,
his devoted passion
and dynamic love.
But the Earth...
he keeps me grounded
and we
don't even speak,
he's the dream
that keeps me up
at night
the tongue in my cheek.
Of all the
astral bodies
She
owns what's left
of my heart.
She's a void
a frozen star.
I'm sure
she knows
the distance I'd go
to maintain
our gravity.
Forgive her for
every
stolen star
don't question why
she became a
black hole
though I'm quite sure
she doesn't even know.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC