Yellow-green leaves lie still Upon the concrete ground. Cars are parked, People are sparse; It is the afternoon.
Humanity is a tired, jaded, dirty face with bright
What is going on Does anybody know For I am lost More so by the day And what is this?
Around her neck Hangs an emerald line, Dotted with sun-facing flowers; Silky smooth, speaks her mind. This line brings this poet
The wall’s broken down, The river’s run aground, The water’s sound Is nowhere to be found. The angst of it comes to call
Smile at me you vixen, melt me and step your red stiletto in the puddle,
The words, the hate Flies, no, spurts Out of your dull mind Faster than comprehension Allows you to filter,
I can see you’re still bleeding. I would like to dress your wound, my wound. In my haste I now realize, I bleed too.
I have that swipe keyboard on my phone where I draw a line between the letters to write the w… Sometimes, it mistakes the word
Ah, my sincerest apologies. I have a tendency to drop dead In front of gorgeous women.
Beyond the vast icy landscapes Far from the othering city There’s someone waiting for me In my favorite dreamscape. God knows I’ve been waiting for h…
Is it too much to ask for, The self being contained Under the snow of your eyes Reaching out, never quite grasping The height of the situation.
I shot the president and he melted into a pool of ice cream. Yummy!
Crush my heart And take from me The very passion that is my soul; Rip it out And leave no doubt
Betwixt imagination And anxious reality You exist; A phantom. I hear you
