

Eight FifteenNature flushes before my perch, doping the air effortlessly. Almost sickening, the dew that hangs to creases in blades. Oh, vast and apathetic, the air inhales my pillaged breath. Like a tongue of plumage hanging from my open mouth, What I exhale explores and settles about the flora, Tinting the water that hangs, seemingly forever.Eight Fifteen


TarotAs once a vulture's talons bled my shoulders for days and dry, Her hungry wolves lunged at my heels and fed upon my collapse. My arms are more cobras coiling and repelling filth about a forbidden island, Than they are flesh and sinew tugged at in the pursuit of trophy or vengeance. How I dragged the ocean floor, hunting for the bones of long lost vessels. Now I sleep on the beach, years out of mind, swept beneath the tide.Tarot


Last NightWhen I enter a room, voices raise as though the dead had also. Am I an experience with a ghost for friends long since lost? I am a forgotten handful of seconds to drunken whores, Splitting the silence I wear with things profound, I am sure. Concerning myself only with sewing quiet hide together again, I am the drink christening brick in their slurred after hours.Last Night
By the time I woke up, aquarius had been smothered alive. Neither the cold asphalt or welcoming drainage ditch stirred me, From what I had prayed was a dream between reality and death. I was a disbeliever, begging for an id


XyComfort which ebbs nebulous fashions agony, With time strapped to a torso like violent plastics. Suck specifics from my skull before I surrender, Painting sidewalks with every detail.Xy
Apathy rapes an ultimatum.
Noxious despair steams under hushing aether, Patiently approaching a boil which might erode, Cleanse and refresh honest love grown wary.
Held breath meets an evaporated past.
Sprawled across our inspired vertex, Emotion inverts upon tender infinites. Hatred to affection and ego to om, Forever expanding post cusp.
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