Dead Dreams IIAn emptiness that eatsNothing is left for the fruitfulness of our bondsTogether we hold stillBut apart we break into shattered pieces of our pasts.Why is an onslaught of misdemeanored causes.No one's will is enough to wretch us freeForsaken and tainted we standOur fingers interlocked in a dance of subtlety
Dead Dreams ITick tick tick goes the bombDead dead dead goes its inhabitants.Bye to our livesHello to our endsWishful thoughts mean more than airBut our breaths cannot grasp our needsForever fallen here we land in our falls.
Death of My RitualPray, just pray a day once moreThe faith of our father's will keep us dear.A silence of love shall dream anewAs the pilgrimage of children laugh till dawn.The words are meaningless if the letter is oldFor the need of the ancients have come to pass.
Come of AgeThe dance of the abdominals ends in tragedyAs leaves of the foliage come to pass.Come the end of constellations undoneAnd still see you not.The mentions of entries are here to stay.If only our hearts could be swayed that way.Feet of fallen create the pyreAs the ashes of tears hold those truths.
My Weak TruthI can't save youAll of you out thereCan't become the chosenNot even if I cared.My faults may bury meMy fears bring on my deathAnd my heart threatens to pauseIn a swift suicideAs my mind wraps itself in a twist.The paper in my pocketStalling the truth that shall come.The sleepless come welcomedAnd the dawning forgottenfor shadows are rememberedAnd the light turned off.I can't bring myself to care anymoreIt keeps tearing me apart.
Lost SelfHere comes my memoryI lost it long agoLocked within the raindropsbleeding from the sky.Broken came the piecesdropped without regretScreaming for the recognitionof the greedy blind.Falling toward the centershaping what can beonly to ignore it allAs the freedom fails to ringinside my lifeless heart.
I Tell You NotPlace me in a cornerand leave me here to dieMy suicidal triviahas succumbed into my mind.Unlike your washy processI always get it rightFollowing through this nightmareof justice served real colda wonderland of echoesof a land forever grandwith an outdated legendBringing forth the lies.cuz if I were to tell youthe truth of which I knowThen I'd have to kill youSo they can still ignore meUpon this empty cornerof which I make my home.
Letter To Myself As YouHi…How Are You?I'm…well I don't exist.So I guess that meansI can't really say I'm fine.It I did, I'm sure I would be.Fine that is. Then againConsidering that I don't existYet I'm here "talking" to youMeans I'm a figment of yourImagination. That is…well thatMeans…that you are indeedInsane. I'm sorry, it mustBe hard for you to understand.I'm sure if you check your pocketYou'll find that slip of paper I gaveYou. You know which one.The one to remind you that you are saneWhile you're insane. Check I assure youIt's there. I lie not. You found itDidn't you. Heh I knew you would.After all your mind is gone. HowElse would I be able to placeThat scrap of paper in your pocket?I'm bored now. I find your lack ofA clear mind bothersome. Your denialSuffocates me. After all you fellInto society's open arms. What didYou expect to have happen to you?To go there is to say farewellto yourself. The you in your mind.The one you who holds the doorAnd knows when to sc
Slumbering DoorwaysI do not think I shall find sleep tonightIt does not call upon my door this nightNot a single knock or turn of the knobOf this sleep, I was surely robbed.Begainst the malice of this deedJust a single night's sleep is what I needYet mocked I am again this nightTo forfeit my sleep untingled without fright.My eyelids unweighed, too shallow to sinkFor they continue to gaze unable to blinkForever in my slumber shall be forgottenAs I lay in my bed unsettled & darkenedListening to the whispers that call in my wakeI settle in this darkness of which I forsakeMy lust for this dream of which cannot beThe day that the door comes knocking for me.
.she'll hold him tight tonightand dread the coming mo(u)rning
a picture of perfectionShe was a painting;not a Rembrant or a Da Vinci...much more vibrant than those, she wasthe fade of Monet,her quirks just shy of a Picasso portrait,and at the same time not quite shy enough.She was a Van Gogh landscape:full and bright and articulate and beautiful-but a real mess up close.Like someone forgot that when you make peoplethey're supposed to stay inside the lines.
Mask Pt.2Dissolve these demonicMasksWe wear,And we'll seeWe all look the same.But I've foundThey aren't easilyTaken off.I've found it too difficultTo undress these thoughts,Instead, I wrap themIn jackets & scarvesTo match this coldWorld.
Night SkyPaint me a story of words,the clouds and sky sit as a attentive audience.The stars outline filled with memories of our epic journey.Hands will be joined together underthe light of the Haley’s Comet.The man in the moon will stay hidden in the moon,we’ll seek him out while sitting on our picnic basket.
caesuraSea foam layers salt ringslike age lines on beached birch wood,shattered shells scattered like treasuresacross soft sand that shifts itselfinto hiding between bare skinand shame.I watch turtles hatch and meanderlike men toward different beginnings,the veins of better thingsetched like hieroglyphson humpbacked shells,and I can't help but wonderif maybe I should start crawling, too.Instead, I pick bits of sea kelpout of half-decaying seashellsand watch the sundip a goodbye to the breeze again.They say you can hear the oceanif you put one to your ear,so I tilt my head and listento the whispers that beckon fromthe bottom of a half-rememberedworld.Lofted on a breezeheaded out like a ship on calm waves,phantom voices bickerover which promises to sell me;I hiccup heavy heartbeatsand wonder why empty wordsare so much easier to swallowfor the broken.
Caesura--C.Sea foam layers salt ringslike age lines on beached birch wood,shattered shells scattered like treasuresacross soft sand that shifts itselfinto hiding between bare skinand shame.I watch turtles hatch and meander like men toward different beginnings,the veins of better thingsetched like hieroglyphson humpbacked shells,and I can't help but wonderif maybe I should start crawling, too.Instead, I pick bits of sea kelpout of half-decaying seashellsand watch the sun dip a goodbye to the breeze again.They say you can hear the oceanif you put one to your ear,so I tilt my head and listen to the whispers that beckon from the bottom of a half-remembered world.Lofted on a breezeheaded out like a ship on calm waves,phantom voices bickerover which promises to sell me;I hiccup heavy heartbeatsand wonder why empty wordsare so much easier to swallowfor the broken.
BalanceI'm sorry but there is no balance here,No perfect key,To put everyone into harmony.
ForestsSuddenly, there you were, little elf -hands glowing firefly sparks,catching sunlightbetween each finger lengthholding forest promises under the dappled fall ofleaf litter confetti raining intangles of your hair.We were forest elves together, our laughter buriedin the darkwrapping secrets around ourselves like stinging nettled vinesas we lay together on beds of soft pine needles over mudburrowed in happiness and so much love -forest elveschildren of earthleft to restdecaying with the undergrowth
i saw, and i learnedthere are several ways to voice thisbut the geometry of a bridge. thrashingcrystalline fish. it is a caseof damaged magnetism they sayit is a dark maze they say and someone will greet you at the entrancenow, she gestures, watch me unravel-there is a sense of napalm in the third lane. a liningof damp thread, animal saliva.the woman leans on the tailgate, exhausted.what are grey curds? skin coming off or caked mudas a car splashes her standingmotionless. the revolving doors of her arms, crossed over chest, as the wire is cut.the girl tumbles into the back of the truck. you were the water, snake and corner, watchful with the wariness of all things orphaned.in the shadow of the aircraftall colours are muted.now which wire is red?this frequency is resonant:a hard labour
InsideI'm living in a coward's worldDying from a dream I cannot reach.Too weak to strive to beI slowly fall into the webOf tangled truths and usurped eyesTrying to break the wallThat I built too youngUnable to find my will.