meek then.

this for the one who was once lost
known now as born to find god.
forgetting to hate, and capsized hating only inside.
pain to look for
is as life fades beneath the waves
waiting incomparable.
how enlightening it is a plus
drenched in but hammered as goodness and satiety;
searching how it tastes of a woman's sweat,
even redeeming for anything like a masked smile
i thought of once to look up to.
and the fatherless
and motherless servitude blames it an eternal mile.

yet i feel more human grinning,
i am afraid that place serves you more
being afraid.
i can still look down at that presence therein

that was never there before in the first place anyway.
and then finally
just maybe
you can blame your jesus
and the neighborhood drunk satan.

gaming unlawful carnal knowledge.

the failure of reality,
objective is always to me.

and now i can't talk
so much of nothing
useless is meaning.
writing whilst time abides
and suddenly awaits to my side
thinking too much becoming me and from behind.
the grasp you can't hear for the music you miss
waiting for no slave,
cleansing bitter to taste and where am I?

come back to me;
my dreams are not dreams
yet always was you belong living my serenity.
working my way to sleep
and time abides
and suddenly awaits i can never be comforted
in a failure in reality.

lethargy.

the black sleep.
it awaits on to excruciate living pus from that is loving,
blistering fingers grasping my face in vigor.
i dont even flinch, it is welcoming.
caressing automation and a sense of disbelief
minding nor my arms or legs.
heeding blitz and hours of halftone gray
sought in sewn eyes attempting to open,

somewhere i am enthralled to the sound of rainfall in the pale cold.

dreamless.
the hellbound heart whims inside to listen and detune;
slowly to be laced to the ledge of life going under butterfly knives.
swallow for yourself,
it is always the first time, and the only time.
and this is it.
losing it all to this, there is not much to be said.
the emptiness is filled with emptiness,
so rare, hemorrhaging for days cant even stop.
i think i should be afraid, and i think i cant think foremost
for all there is
is what have always been waiting patiently in the black sleep.

no hymns and no woes.
this death is the birth, half of life is half of this worth.
it synchronizes a dance in saffron-colored water,
in soaring thin and median cumulus red sky
the dashed hopes words cannot utter for it is in too deep.


...suddenly i woke up with a smile on my face.
and i never wanna leave this place.

sap.

be angry. be optimistic.

he raises his hands high to the almighty to once he kneeled his father's woes.
devil have you come,
devil bursts out of his eyes, bleeding his pupils bile to rage and stare above.
as strength that can break billions and vows evenly engraved in warheads.
surges in his veins; the purity cleaning the living death and undeath.
he is no longer small
the rumbling sounds unearth it is mother nature's belly
closing in.
so heavy the sound

it pounds with fists incinerating everything to sand and glass
it is made of steel, it even cuts through emptiness bleeding it black.
you have been birthed for this; the tide is high to shatter celestiality.
skin is flayed off of rust to peel like before,
place those stars on your shoulders, on your knees
there is always no more.

they.

i have hate for the trains. fear of someone to fall in the rails.
only angry that i can call them "they".
i have gotten out of this, a book shelf, learning stoplights and traffic.
the drivers never got to looking at me in the eye when i cross the street.
none the less
unless i get to ride next to them, a passenger
and we chat about

what do you think

we reach
the end of the road i depart saying
"that's life"

"who cares?" at least i know we're talking to be walking;
i have hate for the unknowing
i might be right

ante.

eyes burn and i need sleep,
haunting of pasts can come to you 'til again we meet.
try to not be afraid
the excess holds me in a grip,
the music resonates away cold fingers and sweaty palms.
i tell myself that
least i know it does get to somewhere..something.

i think of us talking and are you there.
rate and i talk from a thousand to negativity,
my mind is racked in a pillory.
guess
i am under the bend with water in my ears.
always willing walking home alone
occupied with only myself.
it takes me a lot work and i spend a lot of time
all in due to the means, to the ends
i can hear her, a sweet woman laughing,
saying

it's gonna be a alright.

never bother.

sometimes
thinking is a waste of time.

that's why i am writing this.

evade for the last
you may close your eyes
for the last time,
but nothing less of where pain so real comes from

may you never be hurt by anything

or anyone.





(this one is for arcee cruz, rest in peace my friend)