the games you played
are no longer on the shelf
just an old joke
told by that weird uncle,
you see once a year
at the cookout
Tag: Life
just dessert
i find myself selfish
in the most uncommon time
looking for god
in the hottest time
picking up the phone
in the middle of the desert,
wrath is laughing
greed is smiling
and gluttony shovels what’s left
nothing much
just a nightmare with a side of depression
in a desert
little red dream
she wishes from a washed brick balcony
stars too far to hear her
but her song still travels
paved with a milky trail of clouds
it might be all that’s left
she’ll never cease her song
until the day the stars reach their subtle ears
closer to her wolf proof balcony
she’ll be back the morrow
an the next
until the stars
are in her palms
paramedic
i am just a believer
boy you are such a dreamer
get your head out the cloud
before you get a fever
too late
emergency room floatin’
the juice was flowin’
made a monsta’ out of crayons
face covered with spray ons
never mowed my own lawn
fuck this hospital
righteous movement
i wonder what you think of me
if you think at all
if you wave white flags for surrender
or who you pray to
if culture was the start-
was that you?
you’ve been on my mind
debating to see if you can see me
a little different
not ready for that conversation but
i can see it going there
when i am ready we will
maybe
favorite streamer
only way i can explain it:
the body is on a delay
this isn’t a live stream
top dono gets a shout out no-
mind moves body waits
a delay
one part operated by me
the other
i
i am not sure;
they’re kind
just not me
i am hotpocket
i don’t stand a chance
against the sun
but someone has to
he stands tall without a rival
burning the less worthy
like a hot pocket
going around in a circle
unopposed
talkin’ reckless
can never get near ’em
that’s not the world i want to remember
if i exist
will my face be in tact
slippin’ off a plate
wet dishes
if we exist
past four hundred times
over three hundred tics
lunchable picnics
i can remember everything
but what you look like
the two dollar dates
photos by the bookstore
lunchable picnics
i remember being there
just not with a ghost
skytopia
the second you leave
i play it again
and again
feel your scent like a thick cloud
i imagine
it’s what heaven is like
full of these clouds
full of today
everyday
checklist
i don’t recall
you being so
essential
tip of every finger
punch of every joke
pillow of every bed,
don’t know when you became a pen
checking every part of my body off,
when did you
become everyday
Saint's Muse 