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Thursday, February 27, 2014

Junkie







Witty Pity Pity Pity


2.26.2014 L.A.W.

Over here there are no trees. No feelings of a cool breeze. Not a laugh or a smile. A melody or a mile. Tremendous regret and pity fill this air. A toast to the chance that led to an empty world. Created by yours truly. An event worth a funeral. A place to lay this worthless soul. A tight squeeze and a suffocating time. Stand still in this grief and see no further , light is absent in this presence. Like a ghost passing through but no entrance to encompass. Eyes swollen and sunken in. Tears no longer fall only dust gathers around the edges. My bones barely hold. They dangle in distress. Mind body and soul lost with no sign of another merging. What's left if there is no life on this end? I feel but not of good taste. I see but only a figment of what's there. A sad sight and myself is to blame. I'd rather sit In this dead space. Ossify in this corpse. Bleed and leave gracefully. What tempo to this delay. A slow, steady, thoughtful goodbye. A gratitude for this awakening soon forever home. Lost in the stars. My home away from home. Gravity pulls in quicker. Soften this departure. Make it hurt less than this.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Rarity of rain

My Dearest.
You sit so peaceful and secure. 
Wicker burning with flames as this rain drips following its own oath. 
You glisten in silence filled with sensation and glory. 
Ideas of inspiration and clownful smiles meet my mask with your crystalline pivots. 
Spinning round and round. 
The point when the rain meets the flames and this ever so shining diamond. 
The rain. 
It quivers my blood. 
I shake in excitement.
Awakening I stand from my coffin wholesome and sweet as the rain grew emotion. 
Covering my skin the storm roared with it's power. 
The rain no longer drips but pours and I am happily drowning. 
Slender trees danced in toxic shock. 
Finally I sit with the rain. Rain swimming around me. 
Together with the rain. 
Alone with the rain. 
Must be a gift oh this rain.
Echoes Crept through the winds. 
Was it the wind whom helped hail this rarity of rain?
Forever shaping seas and carving diamonds.
I weep in your glorious mystery.