"uphoria" poems
I see no degradtion
in my broken passion of words
these words I speak from my deepest creases
my secrets hidden in the birds
I let you read me in my peices of peices
and I am called absurd
I let you let me shift you with my magic
now your vision of me is more blurred
Ill let you hunt me down
so lopsided and up and done battered
I open the door hallucinating and tattered
its not not like you never mattered
I just have remote in my hands
I have intrusive in my wastelands
now my lungs expand
slow
ly
I lift my eyes and bend my head
without voice I preech muse of the dead
Im yearning for more than lifes bread
and we yell enough
enough
was said
but I get on my knees and I beg
life I say might there be something better that you can
grant
to express myself in ways purer than this
because I feel that I cant
I will carry my mind somewhere further than any foreign land
somehwere to a brutal coma
where little aliens of dripping uphoria exsist
hidden deep in every uncharted abyss
they will come up from the mudd
I will unravel them with the unraveling of this flower bud
I will lift my head up then nudge
in acceptence of all these empty cabinets
they have been emptied out by my wet mouth
to ease the pain and **** the drought
that burries itself like a baby
under the sheets of blood in my eyes
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 9:08 AM UTC
I see no degradtion
in my broken passion of words
these words I speak from my deepest creases
my secrets hidden in the birds
I let you read me in my peices of peices
and I am called absurd
I let you let me shift you with my magic
now your vision of me is more blurred
Ill let you hunt me down
so lopsided and up and done battered
I open the door hallucinating and tattered
its not not like you never mattered
I just have remote in my hands
I have intrusive in my wastelands
now my lungs expand
slow
ly
I lift my eyes and bend my head
without voice I preech muse of the dead
Im yearning for more than lifes bread
and we yell enough
enough
was said
but I get on my knees and I beg
life I say might there be something better that you can
grant
to express myself in ways purer than this
because I feel that I cant
I will carry my mind somewhere further than any foreign land
somehwere to a brutal coma
where little aliens of dripping uphoria exsist
hidden deep in every uncharted abyss
they will come up from the mudd
I will unravel them with the unraveling of this flower bud
I will lift my head up then nudge
in acceptence of all these empty cabinets
they have been emptied out by my wet mouth
to ease the pain and **** the drought
that burries itself like a baby
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 6:32 PM UTC