Pain might scare you but its my bestie
Turning my beats a bit dusty
Soon my lips will be a bit crusty
and my skin will be all rusty
My throat will be all dry
But I won't be thirsty
Soul will be gone back to its trustee
Nothing will be left only the memories starting to get blurry
Everything's been a bit too turny
Red is all runny
We all are just the dummy
Owner is the time
And it does not matter whether its the coffin or the mummy.
My life's been written from the blackest of the ink on the goldest of the paper
Thinking of jumping I've been on the highest of the sky-scrapper
Narrowing at the end it's the perfect taper
Skin so rough can not be penetrated by any dagger
Chained up legs, thousand of the drags and I'm the dragger
And I can not describe what is it like
Sometime I feel like abandoned by the life and rejected by the death
Not giving up is the talent of mine
Soul got murdered a long time ago
Culprit is the time
Every single memory is like unhealed wounds flooded with lime
Heart is still beating
Not being still is its only crime
Salt is too much and sugar is missing in my brine
My scars turned white now they shine.

its my job to protect you
its my job to let the rest fail.  
guardian angel of death, because youve set aside yours

near faith, still haven't sniffed it yet
cut it up with the goldest razor blade
the greed only gets to me on weekdays

hey kid walk straight
even when your mostly ribcage
i got caught up in the moment

just hoping that youre listening

hey kid walk straight
im just trimming your wings
to make you beautiful again

this is a rant
on who the painter is who paints a white canvas.
who makes it blank, all the same?
Who paints with one color, the confused?
My painter, the one who created this canvas
this universe this creation
paints with many shades of
variance. He paints not
one nation, not one race, not one star, not one season,
he paints
many faces,
many days all different
many nights some dark
some radiant.
He painted  us the colors
of all of heaven. Gave us the many shades of gray.
He painted a sunrise yellow of goldest glow,
a night to see the day with a new perspective.
He painted choices right
and painted us the freedom to choose.
Trees of many green with barks light and dark
some are white. All are right.
Remember who painted this.
He painted a sky
not always blue.

The road was shiny slick with glissoning rain as I flew  down the highway,
Owl city's voices hymed through the poors of my radio,
"When I'm far too tird to fall asleep"  they say,
A car rushes round the corner so I switch my lights to low.

A Buzz or two,
A twinckle light luminates the middle concile,
U coming home baby? We miss you:(

Heh,
I miss u2

A little  girl goldest hair  you can  think of pops into my head,
"Daddy" she says  arm streched wide inviting,
"Welcome home, Daddy," the lovliest women  you'd ever seen said,
I walk in and the aroma of chiken, mash patatos, and fresh cut bean meet me I'm home in time for supper that's supprizing.

God it's so late,
My headlights chase after the yellow dashed line,
Buzz When you get hom we should go on a d8
22 miles till home says the sign.

Such a long drive,
but to where I'm going it's worth it,
into bed's the first place I'll dive,
all the rain glows like a candle that's lit.

Buzz We can't  wait 2c u:)
Reply me 2

I set me phone on the dashboard as I start to round the mountian's sleek edges,
Rain sets the road like ice,

Buzz! I love you;)

In the distance apears yellow wedges,
My breaks are squeaking mice.

Hydroplaning we lose control,
My head bashes gainst the air bag,
driffting away is my soul,
Head hung eyes sag.

Buzz *I love you

like oceans
stars fold outward
ever ceaseless muttering
outward stars fall(like oceans)
upward into me, they set their
teeth, on farther nearly shores
fluttering faster
stars sputter
quickly                                                                     (I
                                                                                  wade
                                                                                 into them
                                                                                they glitter
                                                                               fully shining
                                                                              flecks of gorgeous
                                                                             spittle they catch on
                                                                            my sleeves they have
                                                                           nice little exact faces
                                                                          those stars does such
                                                                         marvelous sheets of
                                                                        flickering)in the big dark house
                                                                       coiffed in locks o' goldest
                                                                      and palest ******* o' dawn
                                                                     they rest every morning
                                                                    to begin again
                                                                   that night,
                                                                                   '
                                                                                      ,
                    
                                                                                   .

it emits a curious colour when i am summer
(a curiously on edge colour)
when nights of me are balmy
and thick with viscous laughing
smoke between the necks of ladies
such musically ivory necks of ladies

a colour
               (curiously) when
is Summer me? rests upon the
napes of trees in parks
where dirt and goldest
crush of dawn collide
with unmuscled violence

(this colour is me totally
ambiguous
                     and clear as
the rain dropless eaves of
heaven which are so ****
before the body of her
husband (the sun) who
in those mornings warmly
comes to her and penetrates
her smoothly scratching
the heaped body of the earth)

In summer curious,
colours are me
eyes, nose, knees, and hair
all hued
and erupting
gallons of fresh colour
and wade out into Summer
deep thighs burning cut by
the sharp petals of daffodils
and tulips.  i set running hot
colours from each razored
hewing of my skin and fall
upward into gabled satisfied
skies forever

She scrubbed the floor each day they say
She scrubbed on hand and knee
She dug and plowed and washed and cried
She cooked but not too well I say

Among the brushes and the thrushes
and the hollows and the hymns
Despite the fickle and the wicked
from swirling men to swishing gin

It is bad in this world they say
It is not worth a lick or stitch
It gets all sad with pain and pain
It drowns not washes with its rain

We aren't poor with the Lord they say
We will walk on streets of goldest gold
We will sing and know no loss nor death
We won't really get old though we get old

Among the verses and the hearses
and eager beavers praising praise
Despite the sinners and the winners
with the sermons' end of days

He told the truth they said he said
He told the hardest heard of things
He gave the liars all the fires
He thought he knew the truth I say

Don't leave don't go don't move they say
Don't run away from here your home
Don't think there is a better place
Don't wait up for me at night I say

Among bitter breaths to smell and taste
and just crickets to hear just stars to see
Despite snakes and roads down ***** dirt
and scratchy gravel and hurting hurt

I left them here alone they say
I went and did though I was warned
I drove away at breakneck pace
I long stopped believing in this place

my jaws crave to gnaw / but i’m terrified of the bite / terrified what it will mean to us / so i’m sinking my teeth into my own arm / knowing this is how someone will find me one day / with the white of my tooth scraping at the white of my bone /

my teeth - crooked spaced out teeth - drip blood marrow / and gold / when i pull them out / it feels like ******* all the bad blood out / leeching out my overgrown veins / and you call it ichor / like i’m some sort of god / like i’m some sort of god to you / and it makes me ache i could be that to someone / to you /

people like me better when i’m nice / adjective adjective adjective of all the ways i’m better do nothing but mix cocktails of hurt / i’ve seen it in the eyes of girls just waiting to go home / people like me when i’m nice / just enough to make them smile with their teeth - straight white teeth /

and i like me better when i’m nice / call it human nature but i’m still naming it teenage mistakes while i’m here / trying to make my smile straight on camera when my lips are tilted just so / what angle makes me sweetest / my teeth the goldest /

the hollows in our hearts were once filled with the goldest shines ever

my sister sent me a smarting

pic of livestream Greek Orthodoxy--

three hundred something were watching

the resurrection.

the masked altar boy to the left rapt in

ritual, leaning down to retrieve revelation.

the priest at the head whose turned back broadened

the unaswerable, sung thru unsmelled incense.

backed iconically by Byzantine saints saying their peace.

brandishing the goldest silences you

never did hear.