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caterpillar
im already tired of these same thoughts, circling and singing the same angered ballad as the world is tired of everyone of us. i can already see my death, but i won’t be withering, or sleeping with wrinkles from ear to ear no, I am young In my death
Up, till down.
all of a sudden, secularism seemed within a view too far and too unfair, from where i was, And who I was who i was, at the moment seemed prosaic from within the glass formed, around me. blown back to a course implicitly comfortable, implicitly, discontent I’d say, holding hands with Ares is a comfortable course.
uncanny
I cannot write such petty, petty words until something causes words to seem true, tangible, rather.
I don't appreciate this break in routine
fleets of vagueness. fleets of trivial nonsense in my peripherals, swelling till I'm blinded by this beautiful weather
proclivity
wade, wade, wade incessantly, i will crack and clean myself up, i will crack i will wait
T.S., thank you
i've only seen a sky through a few of these two eyes and all that time, i've stayed sane through enough of this, "enough of this."
let
"misfortune," i see, think, or shut your fucking mouth please, dont continue
Yttrium
i am in every sense a transitional (metal) so please direct me, do not let me wonder/wander further than i can handle I'll only seize the opportunity to leave.
to the degree that doesn't burn, but still leaves a mark
i never left, i've only known waiting, for nothing, really, really just to practice equivocating to myself and to you, you might say that i understand but what i say to you and what i say to myself is the same, sometimes
not this, not this again
i've acted ignobly, therefore a punishment must be ensured by the one that had to bear the brunt of what she created of a flower that had bloomed with a few pedals missing, and a broken stem.
occurring regularly
ode, to the towel that has me wrapped till I'm dry once'day my whole life.
onward
a crisis almost a year ago, and i haven't forgot. but what that crisis has left me with may not have been as evanescent as it may seem but rather a plea is still being heard by the plains within my brain and by the wastelands (forgot) that will continue onward, onward. i will continue this (un)forgettable flight that will carry me, till death
a night's wish to disappear
i am off, for the night don't worry stability will prevail
listening
unlike anything that i am you must scorn me for, i question of course if what you say is true but if so, to change for you or for me? that, i will question 'till my bones wither in your eyes, then i will know
persisting
sorrowful night, why why must you persist 'till i fall further?
hold, underneath an inverted wall behind it, lies what you have thought of me lost that wall is lost that thought has made me
a season's
a season's fault will whirl throughout the lonely one's skin. I am extricated, by the laugh of a new season's grin
oops
i must enjoy; what, it is that i have, though i can't see the point, oops