Handfuls of misunderstandings
Pouring out of my palms
A trusted bucket, at best
This dismal vantage point - played out.
That transformational lie
Has steadfastly infected the weakest of my psyche
And aged dissent - some 35 years long
Oozes yet, with its darkened pathogens
I couldn't find my shoes last night
With eyes closed, my blanket, the fan
I spoke to relevant strangers
Their role - a murky meaning, dubious, perturbed.
In the secrecy of night, I am a buffoon to my senses
An algorithm of dust, bones and fluidity
Strokes locked into sadness, depression, seething frustration
Captured, ruptured, but stopped, stripped infinitely
In the finite action of well-preserving oil.
Indoctrinated, into the sun
The privacy, this solitude, this devotion
I hear and boom, I listen - BOOM, I hear again - shaken
Safe. In what? In here, this hide of dank loathing
Such dedicated attrition, prevailing in vain.
What mode is next...to satisfy the hunger of starvation?
More stagnant air - more colloquial nonsense
Sent to fuck me further?
A word like bereft should only be but used once in a lifetime,
Enough nocturnal exhaust.
The hours past midnight were created for two speeds
None-of-which a restlessness following gross uncertainty - applies
Isolationism is a terror of a circumstance
Disrupted- only, from the harmony of a resting heart-rate.
Pouring out of my palms
A trusted bucket, at best
This dismal vantage point - played out.
That transformational lie
Has steadfastly infected the weakest of my psyche
And aged dissent - some 35 years long
Oozes yet, with its darkened pathogens
I couldn't find my shoes last night
With eyes closed, my blanket, the fan
I spoke to relevant strangers
Their role - a murky meaning, dubious, perturbed.
In the secrecy of night, I am a buffoon to my senses
An algorithm of dust, bones and fluidity
Strokes locked into sadness, depression, seething frustration
Captured, ruptured, but stopped, stripped infinitely
In the finite action of well-preserving oil.
Indoctrinated, into the sun
The privacy, this solitude, this devotion
I hear and boom, I listen - BOOM, I hear again - shaken
Safe. In what? In here, this hide of dank loathing
Such dedicated attrition, prevailing in vain.
What mode is next...to satisfy the hunger of starvation?
More stagnant air - more colloquial nonsense
Sent to fuck me further?
A word like bereft should only be but used once in a lifetime,
Enough nocturnal exhaust.
The hours past midnight were created for two speeds
None-of-which a restlessness following gross uncertainty - applies
Isolationism is a terror of a circumstance
Disrupted- only, from the harmony of a resting heart-rate.
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