Can I be loved for my crazy?
My past me
fight to the death yet
love deeper than the rest,
me?
Can I love you in your christening of a glint of gleam,
so tired of this clean, judgemental tone for me?
#anoceanofme
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Brain Tired
Do You?
Do you think of her anymore?
Do you leave sweet messages of encouragement and divine devotion? That which for a friend you will drop like pebbles.
Does she bring to mind tingling in your groin?
Or is it wasted on new and the old is just comfortable?
No more change.
Fantasie is fine…
… But she feels you.
She knows something is not right.
You wear everything in your eyes.
The new tingles you and she was not the ribbon you expected.
She was twisted in knots that may never come undone.
So, you toy, play with the idea of the unknotted ribbon. The new. She feels it. . . do you?
Padres de familia.
They want pages filled in an explorable way.
This I do not carry in my pocket for them.
Instead, I fall asleep on the ashes of their dreams.
The Eyeglasses
What to write about tonight?
We leave the hating for the keys and hoping the feeling will pass through unseen
But nothing like such a gift is given to me, given to me, given to you or me.
We leave the hating for the keys and hoping the feeling will pass through unseen.
But nothing like such a gift is given to me, given to me, given to you or me.
Time has come to a place I used to care of in seconds quicker.
Now a tired brain figuring out this game no one wins
That’s how it was for me, was for me, that’s how it was for you and me.
Stilettos on thin glass to cut the heart of those already passed, everything is repeated And
And
And
Given into the dollar amount of your sweat, has at least
Already passed.
Everything is repeated and given in to the dollar amount of your sweat, at least
Everything is repeated and given in to the dollar amount of your sweat, at least
Everything is repeated and given in to the dollar amount of your sweat, at least
At least that’s what was done to me, was done to me, at least that’s what was done to you and me.
Bigger
We flip our tongues
like raisers words rise from
To feel better
m a k e s e n s e .
Don’t tread on me!
No longer.
I
have
bigger shoes
than
You.
Creative Stance
She sits
Thoughts bracing for the flood of memories
of her.
Her dreams now just stabs in the gut of ambition.
Where now?
What color?
What planned out thought of defiance?
To create.
To create is where her strength lies.
Words that used to leak out
now a dribble,
with a world so ugly there is not a configuration of letters to form words with meanings grotesque enough.
Dribble
Drip
…leak.
