this sad poem is about lateral choices and the limits of skin. 

alcoholicpoet.com

time drew its knots. eager orphans shed their skins.

the slope wore our voices. in stuttering salves. as if this disease has a cure.

we spun the math. manic architects trapped within our own walls.

our conspirators defeated by the astringent anatomy of touch.

the terrain choked on the remnants of our choices.

we conceded to gravity. perpendicular to shame. eager to fall.

our tethers strained. our collars chafed. as the world expanded without us. 

we bargained with the wolf. 

earnest carpenters of houses made from straw. 

Filed under: Sad Poems September 2024

alcoholicpoet.com

 we sold our voices to the loudest thieves. we wore their machines like second skins. 

we climbed the creaking stairs in search of Bethlehem. 

time flows in stuttering stitches and empty cups. a slouching grief that chafes against the panic of touch. 

a long series of zippers with our flesh caught in their teeth. 

monsters expelled from paradise. 

we go everywhere and nowhere. trapped in a irrevocable conceit. 

the corners ask our names. but they no longer belong to us. 

the distance grows impatient. smeared lipstick and honey on the cheeks of weakening assassins. 

we are simple. spent matches at the crux of the flame. 

we are merchants of a desperate equation. building our world with borrowed bricks. 

Filed under: Sad Poetry September 2024

alcoholicpoet.com

the atoms collided. the molecules danced.

they touched. strangers in familiar skins. tasting each other's scars.

the walls shifted. worn by scavengers.

she solved the maze. only to find there was no exit.

she paused at the fissure. mesmerized by the disaster.

foolish enough to bargain with the ghosts.

the hours chewed on the pulp, but never swallowed the meat.

her voice all static. coins in torn purses. spent on nothing.

she looked over the edge. surprised by its redolence.

she looked over the edge. and listened as gravity laughed. 

Filed under: Sad Poems September 2024

alcoholicpoet.com

 the hours crumble. all broken teeth and bloody lips.

their names disappear. brief storms.

time perches on its pedestal. counting. always counting. grief's waning dividends.

their voices echo. stolen ladders that dare us to climb. even as the ceiling collapses.

the truth is patient. as it stumbles over our epiphanies.

we've had so many lives. jagged zippers solve for the remainder of our flesh.

the trickle of tomorrow carves its path.

undeterred by the impending flood. 

Filed under: Sad Poetry September 2024

alcoholicpoet.com

 the spark worries. dismissed again by the flame.

strays and orphans barter their remaining flesh.

as time sheds the last of its skin.

we're only temporary.

eternity yawns and we vanish.

change is precise, sharp and cruel.

we sneak inside each other. searching for light where none exists.

the spark stumbles. as the dark asserts itself.

time continues to make it promises. while the distance parses their veracity.

we're only temporary.

but the spark. 

the spark is permanent. 

Filed under: August 2024 Poetry

 

an original post by alcoholocpoet.com

inside the monster i saw the empty gowns. the discarded limbs and severed faces that once feigned to be human. 

i stumbled over the obvious arithmetic countless times. until the numbers eventually found their equilibrium. 

i let the edge tell its stories. the spoiled confessions of arrogant liars. 

i didn't have to fall, but i wanted to. 

gravity bit its tongue. as the world tumbled out of focus. 

time sharpened its claws. 

we sat inside the machine as it choked on our corpses. 

strangers with familiar faces. 

we tugged on our ugliest zippers and  smirked as our insides spilled out. 

Filed under: August 2024 Poetry