it's time to recover you can remain pressed that never pressed me they all see you runnin' like time is runnin' low time for some class bell rang, late for class- it's over.
Category: Poetry
yorknew
her eyes they screamed violence violet in the sun red in the new moon this is our requiem;
tie me down
i knew it the moment i saw you i couldn't look away scornful eyes peered down i didn't care. the way you bounced in the summer night i caved in your eyes i'm glad they never returned i wouldn't have let you go
nonsense nonfiction
i chose to take my time to fill the holes left by fiction
trauma stop
she was a needle beetle crawling on all fours ice in her veins of what remains. red puff explodes from her eyes circled her like a vulture claim to be of culture nothing but guilty spies.
untitled 10
she used to say the number twelve smelled like pine outside~ one chirstmas morning 12pm i knew what she meant ~ it's twelve days till your birthday i remember that night; tragic vandal we'll light a pine scented candle in your memory
scream & yell
i remember you differently a quiet one, now you yell from the highest mountain top whatever happened i'm happy i love your voice
once
i haven't seen your eyes shine the way the did tonight; i captured every second with my two lenses before the night ended
forgotten
i don't remember yesterday, the way i did yesterday
day dreaming
it's demon time breathing fire above a bar on a wednesday morning
Saint's Muse 