Sunday 9/09/2012 01:16:00 AM

doors tremble. windows stutter. blame the atom. knowing it's too small. Simple paths to that empty place. it's always there. i just fall sleep sometimes and forget. how much they echo with people there. Save the snow for when it's dark.

the trial. like apple skins. the conviction cut grass. no numbers to name us. or give depth to this shallow trek. just chains. proliferating in empty attics. a collection of ghosts searching for lives to hold onto.

the echo of rain. the piss of nature as it chokes on us. breath. sweat. blood. parlor tricks of skin. to convince us we can feel. and be felt. and be missed. tears. cum. spit. measures of men in the absence of humanity.

the listening. terrible stories.

anthems. cataracts of the soul. blindness the only mercy in a colorless world.

the forest. the predator. the scale. that thoughtlessly weighs their abundance. chalk on her cheek. blood on her wrists. dead is nothing. alive is even less. she wears every shadow until it breaks. chasing each matchstick.

the cold flame. the sour prophet. the sweet poison. missing monsters. chasing faith.

0 comments:


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2016. All Rights Reserved.