Longing like a spruce
Water dream
Coursing down, borne wild

**** all -9
You untie my spear
Willing but spared
Waterfall noise

There is no home
With which I'm blessed or bothered
No tether; air
I'll fall back simple and cold

There's symbiology
Creeping along the curtain
The covers
Hiding my papercut soul

Untold simulacra
Could you jump to twelve
Some kind of sickening sweetness
Again and again

Cycle kinesis
Usurping the gravity
Kiss the blind man
Bumble your words

You know I
So much bigger than any passion
I live here
Deeper inside you still
There's contrast
Start, with a poor soul chattering
You sing this
Still so soft and scared

I sing this
Things are raveling undone
Some tremble
You hear my sickening cry
I turn back
Seeking a similar numbness
You hold this
Under my cries, I crawl

coal omen, deep blue body
spark and spit, new light

beacon 6, cycle 9, register 13
cloud rise drifter, beautiful hair

spin 90 on y, we're late
mouth glow, toward the sky

inhale 6µ, used to be smoke
steel, steel, steel

Cliche
Cobbled
Hurried steps, desperate for footing
Up and down again
I remember when I was more paced
Uncertain and odd, there was yet truth to my movements
Invoking a sound from a texture long lost
I wonder what a round moment might feel like
Pushed against a sharpness I didn't not account for
My choices are smaller still

Whisper between the lanes of edge and acceptance
I eat an apple in my mind
But only fried potato in reality
Sickly with starch and false comfort
Down, below the dancing LEDs
There, the pit of pits

I want to scream, but only for myself
I don't want to be heard or considered
Loneliness, I am no longer offered
Maybe I'll manufacture it instead?
Push away, let you down, a crack in the reverberation

A bell toll wakes me up to a new modality
A pattern I haven't yet considered?
The dull uniformity tells me no
There is discipline, and there is me
Far from married, at war with knowledge

Cliche
Cobbled
I watch the walls of my basement crumble
The mortar turns to sand
Adhesion long dried
Dust
Dust
Dust

There is never a rhyme to how it happens.
Your body moves like a wave, only to freeze,
My naive desire sinks, deepening with the cracks in my skin.

You are the stillness of a lake.
I am the silent pier where knots are tied
to secure your vessel.

Climb atop, and step with confidence.
I will hold you -- for a time, anyways.

Leave me in disrepair,
my mercy howl to the sands of time.
Here, I will surely rot and slumber.