Worship

She aches addiction, While withering lives. Black neurosis, a trinket- Scrap petals and knives- To be played Until intrigue wavers And all the world drops dead. On her words, I made us Inside my head. Would Plath be proud Of deaf coveting instead? So many lives, I try to be in time, To be not... Continue Reading →

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Dysarthria

I am the wind swept Month of May in rigour. Even death was late for me And kept the breeze hanging Until thistle and bone Were only remembered melodies Upon my heart. The cello Cacophony of symmetry. I am the wind swept Forest, decaying in those summer Suns that etch through Rebellious thorns to strive... Continue Reading →

Thunderbird

I listen to the rain As it drums your name Against an empty pane And pain Reflects the world In stencils stretched Across arching street Light shimmer- winter seance In my head Plath Replays in detritus dreams But I am I am I am

Come

She whispers Through my decay Pulls me close As my mind strays If only I could make her stay I watch her chest rise And fall Watch her breasts arch And lock eyes Promises groan From her hips To arterial red lips, My name was placed Upon them Crawled between them With each kiss And... Continue Reading →

Keeper

She flicked her hips and Jesus fell He came so hard Went straight to Hell And all the angels knew full well That with her caress God would follow I am predictable Because I have died again All for a scent Carnal knowledge And lingering self deprecation I want to split her hips and redefine... Continue Reading →

Suicide and White Noise

A leaf falls From a canopy, Caught silhouetted in komorebi. Shivers Are a girls best friend, And death her lover at the end. While I waste away - Withdrawals decay - And emotive love My stowaway - Come to soldiers in a row, Who cut their throats in days last glow. Our dreams dissect -... Continue Reading →

Will find me

there is no life here- no intricacy- nor artistry- only wandering empty hours binding to afterlife- where I sway with death- dance beneath the abyss and rendered into end-

Scapegoat

Hours wake and the dead don't talk, empty stakes in their wayward fault. Some days, beyond the post-mortem stray, where storms chase dragons and old crones decay, I search the world for more than you, but each new location only drew you nearer to those haunted hours, our littered dreams and those terminal flowers we... Continue Reading →

I Die

To never see your face again Or feel your soul warm the night Is my drowning pool. Soft pit, harsh pendulum, The hours swing and I decay, In life, waiting for quietus. The only way to feel your breath That was never mine to share.

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