Rotten

Again my fingers curl, bend by their breaks, and creek into air.  No one hears, the screams are gray against clouded skies, I look up to find her wings, bleeding at the seams, she withers right away.  I rot inside before her grave and the beetles crawling lead me to see the rain.

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I am only typing now.  I was using my tears.  Now my thoughts are paper, digital.  I

felt everything.  Now there is only words.  A map back through the past, to see her again.

My god I felt so aware – I could feel it too.  Her number, her name, her scratches on pages

left me to be alone.  She tore my heart and I ran from her.  I broke her art.  She coughed

and I caught it. Love. Pain that is love.  Love that is pain.  The entirety, at once.  I can feel

them both.

Bluster

Now I spit because of habit, compelled by necessity, to fit the form of propriety, but taken back for the moment of haste, my soul is a goal that the world must taste, so rip me in, breathe me out, feel my tingles in your hair, and feed my story to your doubt – there – within – no more worries – just sin – heavy wages – broke – in tears – hearts earned – and betrothed to fear.  Make me what I was and you’ll see, I’m a cage for your heart, now please set yourself free.

Skyscrapers

Skyscrapers are flowers and trees, not men with disease

They build to the sky, to find what gives light,

their quest not to martyr, but to collect what is right

For them and their kin, and their family of friends,

Their circle of love is a boundary, and they leave for above

To gather what they need, and to take what their bodies seek – For the fuel of society is attention, and the atmosphere within is their reach

Industry

I wrack my brain, refuse to train, the liars in me, are out to gain

For what do I have, but a flicker of light, and a greed for mountains, not even in sight

Tear me down, or build me up, my heart cares not, my eyes are aglut

Will we find a better meaning, or search for what’s still not there?

Three sockets to fit my soul’s power, but not one to dare… I’d best prepare

Refugee at Home

Hey – no friends here

Better lost – no one better than myself to be near

What’ve I got – to fear? To scream

That’s where my heart points, and there’s no room for sport

But I can’t – my bind is taut

And I hope for breath – so my mind, my voice, my message – is not naught

 

The fear

As I sit here, I feel your eyes, they watch my soul and connect to where I dare not go

You have the strength, the power, and burn me to within of what’s close, not far

Rhyme with a rhythm and take me where I can’t see past – the only door

Channels

Channel just a second, a dark groove left me guessin

I look only for newness, and now my stop in the grove is use-ed

So clear, the greatest rhyme, burn me a goat please, and frame me my eyes

I’ve been better, but so gone, so far – this time is reckless and the words are brawn

This

My heart

In mind

So for what was torn down, don’t attack – build it up.  A cooperation and a floozing of flood goozers and broduzers for rum carrots.

Freakout

Today I lost my cool

I decided to trash it, to no longer play the fool

I’ve been there enough, a long little stay, and now my breath escapes

To the rhythm, to the pace, to the sound, and alongside my heart to race

With every tear, every gasp, every moan, every fear, that I may lay down here

What’s important to me, I believe, I can see, I am free, no more chains, except for thee