you’re not insane
not until you’ve reddened and painted your lips with blood, relished in its wrongness
christened your knives with its sweet crimson sting
til it adorns your face and mars your unworthy, jagged claws
until your brain clots with its cloying saccharinity
that is insanity
all in the name of serenity

you are so pretty
like sunlight with freckles and something unique
i wanted to learn all the facets of your smile
to coax forth each glimmering new dimension of your mystique

but i think
now i know all there is to you
at least for the time being
but love, all the things i intended to know in you
no longer seem so alluring

i wish there were less emphasis
on a number on a page
that assumes our relative weight
our achievements and our fate
a mark on a page
is nothing of a gage
i burn it in my contempt
for society's dystopian, theatrical, sadistical decay

the waves that lap the shore
are governed by the moon
the moon that wanes and waxes and glows
with the light that the sun bestows
our world tilts for her benevolent touch
we drift in her well-worn paths
the absurdist irony of the atomic, planetary model
the sun, our nucleic core