black liquor

wish it would stop watch the laundry spin and then sit on a box circular sleep. daydream while i cry kill me at dawn, sing silent night – no. hum at my grave dig me up. stop. then kiss my remains skeletons out the closet. my bones here to stay shapeshifting gravediggers. I’m barely awakeContinue reading “black liquor”

prairie wheatgrass – nostalgia

i was obsessed. no- a feeling remorse and nostalgia stretches of gold over algae. prairie turf interwoven to coast bezeled beach. denizen dosage. felt closer to home juniper fire, i never understood why i’d cry when alone something about … fingertip tingle. hands nestled over a looming horizon open field just for me, dusks pyreContinue reading “prairie wheatgrass – nostalgia”

i know what i need 

I dont know what I want whether its surface dwelling alone at the swamp or an oak in a marsh, soul searching proverbial want we’re more or less spawns of monsters nobody needs you were my star spangled banner and I was taking a knee subterranean breeze, vitamin pond, still smell your perfume every onceContinue reading “i know what i need “

fötter day

you can hear the… suburbia chime, zirconia vertebrae. pearly white spine glass thrown in stone houses, regular suburbia night whirring, rewind. chronicled childhood in olive drab paint monocle glass. wormwood and bottles of shawshank. dissolute solitude, wanderer who wallows in maze en route. delay for tomorrow. never promised today virgin diary. anne frank. marie curieContinue reading “fötter day”

delicate skin: negative print 

who’s barely   intact. two hundred thousand nails puncture veins in my back whether not they’re human or metal remains to be asked  yellowpages. your name severs sapience. saps like heavens angels. vessels fray then collapse lord father, elevate us. why’m i so fixated on the past separate fact from fiction. eradicate my relapse rehabilitationContinue reading “delicate skin: negative print “

desultory 

okay. okay desultory genius. under construction. lost when unnerved  nothing more bizarre than the absurdist themes conjured with words  it’s almost perverted with how unconcerned I’ve grown as a man flirt with death. skeleton slow dance. holding his hands smile so they see it, hold smog in my lungs breathe it out when the smokeContinue reading “desultory “

skylit lighthouse

we spent an hour alone watching our eyes meet our lips my revolvers extinct. extinguishing meandering thought cradled across indifference right into addiction deference to malice. rosebud digitalis reborn grin. while I think about things I haven’t before soaked in grimace and gin while I’m singing along philosophers physics. you had me at ‘gone’ underneathContinue reading “skylit lighthouse”

I didn’t want to believe it

Im sitting alone at the cosmic stump. Sipping my soul & I’m Vodka drunk Thinking of goals. I’ve not have done Fission control. visit me in my head Cataclysmic logarithms. -picture dreams that are dead Bickering silence, word by word I fell in your haiku only heard what you wanted when I tell I loveContinue reading “I didn’t want to believe it”

unfinished love gimmicky, smug grinning combustible bunch.

puncturing flows of buttery colors, exposed in post and pre nuptial showmanship. Function control amusing instrumental. effusive, ode to hold this angel to a centerpiece basil, with cloves, of energy that exposed a masterful synergy a weeded rustled drone, that tumblerode a the quietest depiction of the color blue on a petal succulent. moss growsContinue reading “unfinished love gimmicky, smug grinning combustible bunch.”

guillotine lust

particle physics; radiation cusps at every speck and a grain that didn’t mean infecting the inflections as your hypothetical claim bite the bullet. swallowing the pistol. it shoots harboring a hollow feeling. sipping miller to boot coil gripped Corona, drowning out social persona were evolving into moths, wallowing towards the murky gray skies. yeah, theContinue reading “guillotine lust”

Freshly dressed tourniquet

Empyrean cosmos. This feeling I swallow; it’s real. It’s hollow, but there. I know it. It’s growing, a hole full of sorrow, it’s weird. Some sort of eery control. It’s sculpted out a grave in my heart, it’s six feet into my soul. Clay soldier statue that’s woven and wound up by fear. Wounded byContinue reading “Freshly dressed tourniquet”

IT’S 2 A.M AGAIN, wooohooo.

  its 2am i feel interconnected through any vine or snippet of life perennial inflorescence of any 6 seconds are chimed the success is a hive. hummingbird wings in slow motion hearing the crickets sing, so monotone yet obscurely composed feels like they’re talking to me, as i walk on the leaves that i crossContinue reading “IT’S 2 A.M AGAIN, wooohooo.”

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