Waiting for a phone call I tap my foot to the drum
of one thousand humming birds
Marijuana is needed but I think I have some,
smoke a joint, just feelin' like a ****

I need to run, escape, that's how I will heal,
but I find myself binded in place, stuck,
So I bow and just keep spinnin' the wheel
But one of these days I won't give a ****

I'll pack my bags, spread my wings and fly
I'll work up courage and leave you behind
I know I'm an *******, but I''ll try and leave with a friendly goodbye
If I keep thinking I'm gonna lose my god ****** mind

There's two wolfs that claw at my ventricles, my veins, even testicles
they fight for every part of me, and are made from each other
A pitless void, I just seek fun, adventure and thrills,
Ying and Yang, they're me, but they're both brothers

they talk of heartbreak as though romance is the only thing capable of such a thing
but they have not felt the pain of having a bottomless pit wedged between you and your best friend
they have no idea how much it hurts to see the other half of your soul smiling wide at others
while they are seemingly forgetting about your existence
they have no idea how heartbreaking it is to know you've hurt your twin flame with no idea what you can do to help
and how much worse it becomes when they refuse to let you near
because god knows he is my safest place in the world and beyond
and i cannot stand the thought of having to live without him
when i can barely get through the pitless nights without our mindless chatter
and our playful banters, our inside jokes
and by god i would do anything for us to grow back together
even if i keep ruining myself in the process

(In)Coherent pulses,
Dreamscapes and landscapes,
Cross fading winds knocking at their  front door
His delirious (un)attempts to slacken back
his mangled froward hair;
she necessituously brushed aside her hair
which made unparalleled intersections
at her forehead which seemed to him like comet tails
intermittently intertweaving within their nebulae
multifaruously forming exquisite cosmic dust
which when he had a whiff,
****** his pitless melon collie into the void.

His fingers brood at the birthmark on her arm.
You're the bridge across
his brokeness and finding himself.
Same blood, same love running
through his veins and every artery.
Breathe life into the pen names of our children.
Widening the gap between
the venerations of his & his faith.

Pulses aching coherently across the stringent,
point decimal of an infinity.

I used to think that
if I made a trip back in time
I’d be fast enough to stop you –
I used to think that a
selfish rewind would bring you back
safe & sound.

You were a silent child,
one who would lie limp – an apple in your right hand;
amidst the wasteful afternoons they’d spend
flailing below the soft clouds;
you were the boy whom
nobody would notice in the
dusty crevices of the neon shades of
red and green.

Submerging into the soft memory
cushions of our childhood I used to
smile, waves of sepia nostalgia
sending chills, along with a tinge of
sweetness.

Remembering your traces was bittersweet,
now more bitter than sweet; a lopped ratio.

Maybe if I had been quicker on my flat feet,
maybe if I had been more sober on a silent evening,
maybe if I had been there you wouldn’t have left, would you?

I used to wonder, watching you lie limp;
where had your teeming enthusiasm gone,
where had your everlasting positivity
faded to,
was it in a dark corner?
or had it left along in your backpack;
or had it disappeared;

You were a victim to
the vicious lies spat by the most innocent
creature called hope;
you were left to desperation amidst the
busy street –
you were left to nothing.

Perhaps pushing your palms together
and wishing for the best
was not sufficient in the maroon eyes of
death in which you’d see your reflection,
tired and worn.

Maybe if I lodged my right knee
against the cold marble floor,
and begged hard enough with
the sole image of your sweetest –

“We had nothing to our name but the old
mutual understanding that we were together, a mishap; a disaster.”

And by now perhaps I was ill,
gravely ill from the dearth of
the fruits, the green apples which well pleased
by pitless avarice, because
[perhaps even an alteration in our memories wouldn’t change our ending]

sap has to sway in

stiff wands to meet

a white beyond weather.

as high towers well

pitless raindrops.

to satisfy the most private

thirsts.

way greener goes a pasture

for a newborn black sheep

laying there for a belly rub.

There's a window with a view that would blind a star
There's a man next to me
And he's so good he wouldn't **** a fly
There's a smile on my face that always wants some more
But for the moment that face is feeling good enough

And as the day went by emptiness made it's way inside
Suddenly the sun was never bright enough
And as other men would come my way
Suddenly my man was never good enough

And as the day went by all that I didn't have became so appealing
That suddenly my job seemed like an endless chore
And suddenly my home seemed like a pitless hole
And by that time, as usual, I was already longing for more

And so I did,
I ran away,
I escaped the misery
I went on the quest of finally winning the lottery.
And when I ultimately found a man and a home that made me feel alive.
I settled with a smile on my face that always wants some more.

I had left a few broken dishes and hearts on the way.
But had no regrets thinking I was finally satisfied.
However while waking up the next day.
I realised the grass was greener on the other side.