thirst.

to my kingdom of unfathomed wisdom:
such diluted dormancy
i savored tasting gun metal,
from you my opiate,
we were bloodful harnesses..

what is wanting...

trying once freed me to see means;
i guess starting something special,
meant breaking it in precaution.
for in return i look at pictures of you
like my mirror..
irregardless of circumstance;
i would regress to melancholy,
be souless for a worthwhile,
uphold a transparence..
i would believe everything.
and would want more
of your whatever..

i would stab icepicks with it,
fly with tuberculosis for wings,
succumb to boredom,
and listen to TV as i never did before,
just like the moment you left
alone.
all for the divine sentiment,
you could spit in my face forever..

those weren't lies
but failsafe devices,
to kill what kills,
and to breed
what hails to a melody..
yet,
i feel so vigorous
even cathartic being scathed by fists.
liking malnourishment,
substituting cigarettes for meat.
i'd be deaf from my thoughts,
surrendering..

i knew i was somewhere being wise.
i strangle it's neck
but it is headless,
no groan.
the dread begets passion,
hearing a priest talk
that my lust for love is a brute desire.

exceptionally,
hurt from you..
i go hungry
sleep in the gutter,
i please myself of eyeless fairies,
implying i was chased by rabid dogs,
and got away with stealing oil pastels.
a lifetime a person would pay..
a threshold an athlete would push..
and music, oh so music;
even a moron would levitate with..

i swore too much to be under,
but just for our story to tell,
i awoke contented
sometime humbly fantastic,
living and ending,
i had once known
i slept next to you.

for

greetings and goodbye,
(be my bow to you so discreet)
angel, my christmas gift..
guilt as i your hope..
i see you from where you left me.
even if you will, you remain undiminished.
for this next one is for you...

for this next one is for you...

for this next one is for you...

cyan.

valiums.
but then again i have a sense of reason
both also an excuse.
my mind was somewhere else too drunk,
all in place to be estranged and progressive,
all nurturing to drink more,
after reaping what i sowed
that didnt grow to be money for less of a man.

penance was none so sweeter for me,
and hence i wrote a tune listening to soilent green.
i then ask i was misplaced to proceed further,
lying down like no other,
be so vile, that density was not an option..
not even a conclusion.
where was my mind to succumb to such?,
lost and finding all over what was before
already
dwelling seemed to be wise
for cirscumstances be of less of a risk..
such it is an analogy to awake too early
from a hangover too redeeming,
as you once did begging to sleep.

what i didnt do, must i keep on persevering.
something grows like fungus and brings forth;
if i did lose in reversal
writing in this stream of forgetfulness,
it could've been something else..
that i didnt have but grasp i still will...
regrets never seemed to taste terribly.
hell, im not desperate at all..
i lack spaces that bind in between
just when i close my eyes.
dejavu pays off if you had forsight
and i had none of that,
and nothing else
but this..

no one can piss on it,
no one can ask
if i did set the meeting to adjourn.


and for tonight let it be..
just for tonight

so i can think of her face.
the color cyan.