Grounds of caffeine and capsaicin
Surround my feet.
Tiny specks spilt
From a nonchalant cupboard.
Effective, yet useless
Down by me feet.

Gather the specks
And boil the concoction!
Mix the beverage
And pour it into a cup!
Drink, *******, drink!

How morose. How macabre.
The dog has moved to another tree.
The ***** merely ignores it. Rejects it.
Give a visage of violence.
It’s alright now, you’re safe.

She calls again.
You answer.
The tree is not the tree.
But a special tree.
A sip, a sip, take another sip.

Gulp it and see.
See the busy bumblebee,
And the ascending anathema
And the cacophanous ****.
It is all beautiful. Ambiguous. Curious.

How odd, the drink I consume.
And there you stand. Oblivious to me.
I call and you turn, briefly.
Are you a ghost? Angel? Demon?
I don’t know.
But you begin to blur.
It cannot be stopped.
I will miss you.

Grounds of caffeine and capsaicin:
What a beverage. What a drink.
No bricks. No lemons.
Just my serendipitous spill.
If only I had
Grounds of capsaicin and caffeine.

Crystal clarity at a cacophanous volume
Like decibel demons devouring depression,
Deep sobs drowned by Cranberries...
Yes, I have to let it linger...
Just a little longer.

The rug really tied the room together, did it not?
Its wool surface flays my face
As the smears of tears clear my cheeks
And vault from my visage,
The only human touch I feel now flying,
Cascading carelessly, silent and apathetic,
To smash in this rug, breaking a house broken home...

All lost,
"Like tears in rain,"
Blown away by the cymbal crash
The strumming of strings,
Screaming of someone's sandcastles
Swept away by shoreline showers,
Scraped from the shivers of my spine
Sloped like a summer puddle of slime,
Contorted like circus freaks...
You made a snail of me
No.
A slug (a happy home was my shell)

And now
If I were to curdle my blood
And destroy my lungs
There would be no shockwave
No sudden surrender of shame
Only stories scratched out
Severing slumber from my soul

And in the end,
The stereo is my lover.
Low ends learning my loneliness
Mids melting away my murdered marriage
Highs heaving with my heartbreak

It's good to be here.
No one can hear me shriek.
Not even me.