How deep the root

How scattered the seed

How red the fluid

That bleeds

From a filthy tongue, rumoured

How impregnated

The lining of a lung

Inhale a second sooner than before

Spawning words have gone wrong

Again.

I’m supposed to be writing poetry

But I play qwerty with grime black

And dirty keys.

I only open the locks of unease

When gutters press on the ear

The sea shell sound of sewers

I cant see the stars for all this vitriol.

Your pour all the words that you keep inside.

Rubbed the wrong way

They are there, preserved

Let me be you formaldehyde

Let my mutterings be your awful work of art.

Spit it out then

-What you wish to say

Fear not my torrent

Nor lay’eth the hay

arms uncomfortable, this soggy hug

Tight stonewashed skin grey

The grip ,not a loving one

Gravel on silk sheets, it reads uncomfortable

This thread has mutated

This spider spin is held elated

In the realms where the shadow reigns

And its dragging us in

We vibrate our wings as if to say ‘look at me’

And we take pleasure in dying on our backs

The only way to replace something that lacks attention

This cold hole we seek to feed

Needs constant filling

When taking constant pales from the sea

We think we could make a difference

Empty it

We are insignificant and yet we are everything

Hale comet the curator

the moderator of emotional forums

you wish me expelled, later

An anti-body

Yet vacant the strength to leave

You gaze like Queen apathy

Distilled, out of place

In your eyes

And thinking space

gone

- always pure

an interpretation of myself

I poison your desire already dirtied

I freeze your cold, ice hurted all

so distant

Never fulfilled

craving more

final fold

The weeds have already sprouted

split bone a gargantuan power

the roots of trees

breaking apart under setting sun

these petting puns

are making graves to fall in.