feignt (1/18/2016)

A brush with life
living in cupboards
spilling out
light strewn across the floor
pine-scented shame
as naked as me. 

cover my softspots in a scramble
regaining consciousness
sought relief in the shade of brambles
Always trading one fire for another
I'm never quite sure how to live
without the pain and glow of embers 
to light the way. 

how could I hope to win a world for you
quiet and still, leagues beneath the riptide, pale
miles beneath the sun and moon; how?
when victory's at the bottom of a box of coffin nails?

crucified against the earth
stuffed with sparse ceramic dust
crying out, devoid of sound
when my daily bread should makes its rounds
The spear in my side named you.

and so it was, another day the fractal Bourne
from the hollow man stumbles another, 
pouring out of idle hands, that sound
is where I fester'd my youth away. 

here I lay, new again
a heaving pile of asphyxiation, breathing in
and breathing in
and breathing in
and breathing out my peace.


A brush with life
living in cupboards
spilling out
light strewn across the floor
pine-scented shame
as naked as me. 

Able clockwork pinehewn hell

◄ flirt (01/16/2016)

the absence of eloquence with time hastily borrowed ►

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