you repeat my words in a timing that cuts

deep,

sharpen stones that erase what I owned and gave

freely, at ease, once

spoken in tongues familiar,

now distant, now gone

array and returned wicked,

now poison, now lost hopes

slowed down expectations,

upside down and out of control

so do be original if that is a choice

I command thy so, kindly:

a driving seat can be shared at arms length,

the gap shortern by stories that came whole,

here we go.

that is

good

form at

it

wit, will, wiff

a space, a sense (a danger when reflected in light)

between

us

i suppose It

is

shared

recognized, understood (in) faith

the same

brother, sister

who else stains the bed

blood, piss

what else dissolves

so well?

what else is worth taking

in this game without a forseeable conclusion,

I beg thy

rain down

on

me.

implode

fibers rearranging love

lost to oneself hip towards bone

ripped from spine along the side

no siren on sight, spit have to hold

I am commited to see this story through

so I kneel, crawl and implore take another's soul

I am that petty and count the years with tremendous avarice

wasting day after day with abandon that sun alone cannot purge.

think I may try

to lace the night with

temper, oblivion a triumph

matching the pulse that drowns

the feeling that sways dangerously

close to the ledge over there where beaty

is found. cloud 9

a different break, an incompatible tear

to scald the peel off my hand

to burn the coat of ear in order to peer underneath

a cleaner oversight in a ill men's attempt at order

finding confort in settling in calling it over.

the vision of the future a sickening shade of grey

blops of ink still wet mark the meltdown,

a fate left behind.

blessed this anguish we take stake,

a dark embrace warm felt

coated in loneliness and hallow scales

measured by actions well intended meant for disgrace

a tragedy in the making molded us in (shared) space once.

dream bigger sister: be all at once, brave, bold, kinder (for)

us united upon a star, 

wouldn't it be brilliant?

but fantasies do not feed the fire,

hell is aplenty with sinners with good intentions

and on both accounts we are guilty

dispute not, waste no penny on the fountain of wishes

for the boatman demands his charge just as well. 

on this lookout, the broken mirror reflects a difference

not a missing piece, merely how it was meant to be

an incompatible tear make us stubbornly similar true

alas, the mold does not fit. isn't it just typical:

born to be thrown into the lions, 

a stepping stone

humans are no kinder to the ants than gods are to to their brothers,

and me, I am the god of my own personal hell.

Pleased to leave to settle my peace over There

in worn shoes rubbing at the heels like a tick

a fevorish disease we cast a mean eye

a heavier shadow that we can forgive a friend

afforded he does not turn coat in clear conscience

no peeking through the rear mirror, tore apart by a notch of a loose elbow

a too common tale of reckless refusal to be guided by the hand

lost we found ourselves in the beaten path nevertheless for the valley deepens at the end.

 

what giveth, taketh

offense perceives A catch

named, read

cannon, over 

history naked, betrayed

His

form At prose, disagree (Able to speak)

venerable hate, positively necessary

sacrifice.

 

One day God was missing,

we took note late as dignity overtook

sight a dizzy spell enchanted by the notion of speed

a blitz from hand to sleeve, the horror no ghost

This is me telling you it is over and there is no escape should we turn back

we will only circle right back just as the sleep diludes terror

a settement without a doubt.