just living
a false dream
someone elses
somedays, it’s a cape
flying around
catching bad guys
other days, it’s a noose
holding me still
gasping for another way out;
someone else’s dream
like a torch bearer
we only run forward
Tag: Wrath
vacant
they keep coming; to room 306-
they checked in, locked the door, and dissapeared-
they order room service, but no one is their to pick it up
they call it ghost
hunters come with their cameras
leave ith empty pockets
all to see room 306.
i’ve seen him, not a they, a he
he comes late and leaves early
he orders food just before he arrives
he doesn’t communicate anymore
just a being
exisiting in a shell
the hunters were so close
to catching a real ghost
igor
transfused:
bleeding finger tips
over your tan washed drum kit
dragging your worship like a rotting corpse.
early on sundays to meet
before wandering eyes can undress
my wishful thinking;wishing
and put her in wolf fur.
i am sorry for missing our date
not one to do that
but
i can’t promise
that it won’t
happen again
playoff game
we lost.
we were barely playing,
showed up late
cussed each other out
finished strong
too not show up when it mattered most;
it’s not all you
i know the ball could have been better
not perfect, just better
we were never perfect
just humans
showing up each game
playing for our lives
on your love)
docile disguises
drifting in the clouds;
some days i’ll rest this pen,
like eyeballs on a pillow,
n’ let the words come
from writing on a wall
subconscious love
existing on an edge made of paper planes
flying(
paddle boat
worry rocked the boat
sent lifeless butterfly stroke
to the bottom of the creak;
sleep sleep sleep
little baby
rockaway
trot away
fuck away
little far away down the stream
lifeless cocoon
and an oar.
final ballet
words don’t travel as they use to
blocked by mountains
scared of river beds
drowning in wastelands
bringing death, to her knees
singing her song
that sweet
last song
snakes loose
drawing blood to test
if this dimension
is habitable,
when did this glass
become so
life like.
now it is just right
the walls caved in
glass shot
a tunnel of hiss
flying box
house of balloons
personalized jack o’ lantern
your sweet song
beckons me closer;
listen to me,
don’t waste a hand on that clock
put your hands up
than down like a prayer
and rip the skin off my flesh,
carve me like the thirty first
dress me up as your favorite dream
sing that song that keeps my ears star born,
don’t stop
call my name
lay on your creation
inner demons
i created you
i.
like god with an atom
a sorcerer with a spell
a scientist with the elements
i gave you purpose;
with the swish of ink
with the words of centuries before, with the graceful eyes in my skill, and the hands dished from the pot of decades of molding-
this
is
mine.
it sleeps in my head
dodging bullets made of lead
we carry that blood,
but i gave you life-
your sluggish steps in my inner chambers
rattle while i rest
when you’re most upbeat
i am
down
Saint's Muse 