Was it a sequence Of words Drifting in and out Like the last time I tried to sleep Through the Drowning sands With silica dreams And dry-mouth Failures How high Were the tides That time I slipped On my way Back up To city streets Polluting The last thing Which made Any difference In all …
Somewhere within These illicit words Is an addiction Strung out On hope Stained With screams Of regret Colored With mortal decay Left thirsty Stripped To its core Hollow, ruminating, replicating Through blank spaces Within the only thing We know as real Pounding These pages Left empty In the belief This all Leads To something Different …
Her father looked over the mess she had made. She could tell by the look on his face he was disappointed. She hated that look. "Oh honey, I remember the first time I tried to cut up a body," he kicked at the partially severed arm, "It's not easy, that's for sure, but what you …
I can hold you In my arms And tell you All the lies You've been longing To hear And mean Every word I say Because those lies Are the same lies I've been dreaming Of, for so long And we'll lose Ourselves In blind Blissful Ignorance
"There was this kid I knew growing up-" "You are welcome to talk about whatever it is you want, but I was hoping we could talk about you today. That is, after all, what we're here for." "I want to talk about this kid." "Yes, that's fine, this is your session but-" "That's right, my …
It's too late For the light to change These adornments Permanent Fixed to the existential Crisis of the moment We find it better To run For the outstretched Grasping hand Of assured And absolute Absurdity Of uncertainty
If I could have seen Known this, years before When I had nothing No color, only sound Echoing throughout, between Innocence in the past tense Uninvited and unwelcome With more loss to come Before we understand The crippling effects Of double digits and time Old bones would be known Soon enough But not soon enough …
