Writing, Ideas, & Stories
walkin’ round like your
a king;
a king
you are a fucking king
i remember when
you first found that crown
wearing it around
like a fearless toddler;
i don’t know where that went-
i found the crown
i don’t know where you went
the best on your journey
maybe will meet up again soon.
i feel you like water between my fingers
swimming inside you
breath being held for hours
this is my comfort place
stroke in motion
pool of clear water
in the backyard
you are home.
for the one in the back
that never got their chance;
keep fighting,
the front is a mosh pit;
dirty, violent and savagery
your kind heart wasn’t meant for this world
waiting for your wings to grow
an angel watching us from above
i collect memories
store ’em in a binder
under my bed
deep under past the monster
blow the dust away
they start early
half eaten by moths or accidents
birthdays and birthdays
a success photo shoot
that fucking kid billy that i hated
(take that one out real quick)
flip to the back to these empty pages
no dust no moths no sad endings- yet
a place i come often
a sweet reminder that the previous pages
don’t tell the end
moths will get to them just like the beginning
will put it back, with out guardian monster
take our books, pens and camera to the park
and look for butterflies
i see it in your eyes
a hunger for more
every piece has your name on it
if you can see it
you’ll take it
a bloodlust for happiness;
but when your head rest on my chest
the breathe slows to a mild sigh
i see the kid again-
chasing a dream on a t.v screen
trying on string like a queen on the screen
it’s your favorite scene
we watch it on repeat it’s our routine
in the mirror it’s a queen at thirteen.
touch of hatred;
carried a long way
held every thought like a parent
grew up playing catch with his brothers and sisters
you could never tell;
trained to never forget
triumph will never relieve
one day will walk in the light my brother
your journey will bring you back
i need you
like the flower needs the sun
when it’s all said and done
as i wilt away
in trenches of rain
my last thoughts will be of you
days spent in shine
my final quest;
there is no place
for lazy bonds or magic wands
in our wonderland of music
strings and kings playing for titles and bibles
ceremony of rings
loving all of your vitals
down to the very bones
our love made from thrones
sticks could never break our stones
the fall is graceful;
treated as beauty and all we can talk about
the rise is ugly
sweat and blood
scars and tears
summed up and fastforwarded
with a catchy top ten hit
just to watch the great fall;
i believe it’s meant to be
when the rain swept away
the nine on the night of wine
left all on the right wing
so i sink
swept away on the nine
i remember the wine
in boxes- floating
sent away with a sticker in rain
meant to be
swept in the rain
sinking
on the night of wine
Saint's Muse 