My burning desire,
You've buried yourself deep & guised yourself well.
Hidden by an illusory veil of happiness, a congenital virus of an idea.
Move away, motherfucker, move.
Smoking as a vice, drowning; taking long pulls I dive from the highest board into an open container.
From past to present, my outlook on you & all of this is parti-pris.
Pretension aside, inside glowing, I'm blowing on the hot coals until I am burned by an ember.
Thank you, though.
Silently weeping, secretly smiling, consumed by consumption:
Absolute hysteria is recognized.

Needles

Needles.
The bitch rest's, heaving, taking in vast gulps of air to fill a tiny space.
The day finds empty promises, broken oaths; final stroke on hand to fill the empty cup to the brim.
Blood rushes in; rivers of red wind their way through high mountain tops, low valleys; a plateau of lost thought.
The cock, the sparrow, the armistice;
lay down your arms.
Lay flat on your stomach, face first.
Dive into those lowly avenues.
The bitch awakens, disrupting all things.
The fucker hovers over me, he draws first blood.
I am a slave to all of these.
Needles.
Needles on the fuckers arm.

Sleep Through: Platitudes Of Self

Sleep Through: Platitudes Of Self: Platitues of my alcoholic mind. Follow your heart child, but lest you forget, you have sound mind. For the comings & goings of thought, th...

Platitudes Of Self

Platitudes of my alcoholic mind.
Follow your heart child, but lest you forget, you have sound mind.
For the comings & goings of thought, the fleeting emotions, the swelling of my heart, I stand strong.
Broken walls, shattered stone lay cast about my feet.
The earthly tremor; sadness leaps & bounds with venemous rancor; pulsing, I watch the rise of self take place.