its not poetry its cynicism

[starsofgraphitechunks]

I'm seeing false stars

Make a wish as my world spins

And collides with yours

[starsofgraphitechunks]

You signed my name, Pen dipped in my blood.

And when vultures came, You let them flood.

Blood in the water, Like a moth to flame,

You never had a child, but your story ends the same.

[starsofgraphitechunks]

Bitting the bullet,

Kills the vibe. rabbit ears

Bleed by your design. Take

Deep breaths, to make it last.

The curtains will fall.

Are they slow or fast?

[starsofgraphitechunks]

Dithered in diamonds, gowned in gold

Quite a divine sight to behold.

Robed in rubies, graced with gore

Tell me, god, what's my fight for?

[starsofgraphitechunks]

There's a gentle catharsis to transience.

Will the world really matter at all when it deigns to turn to dust?

The thing that makes us human must be conscience.

For, metal or blood, with time regardless will it rust.

There's a gentle grief to permanence.

Everything we see will outlive us.

Every clock tower will sing an endless resonance.

Iron and bone see no need to fuss.

But there is a gentle fear in every hope.

With the end of each barrel comes the lens of a scope

Is it optimistic or pragmatic

To hope for a death of prismatics

[starsofgraphitechunks]

Honestly rushes from my lungs with every breath. It always has. Call it a flaw or a quality, it's true either way.

Honesty rushes from my lungs with every breath, so i learned to measure my breathing.

In for 4 seconds hold for 8 months, out for 6 hours. I learned to hold a rhythm of my own.

Honesty rushes from my lungs with every breath, but misleading requires no lies.

I cannot lie, and i cannot tell the truth. I cannot say a thing false, nor can I tell a truth as it is.

Honesty rushes from behind gritted teeth as i filter and shape it to build a palatable tale.

Something rushes from my lungs with every breath, but is it still honesty?

[starsofgraphitechunks]

These hands of mine are not made for holding.

If you get too close you'll be hurt in every way that matters, sharp unexpected edges mixed with hard razor edged skin and a hold that will make you feel important before it lets go.

These hand of mine are made to make and made to break.

Callouses mirror my own demeanor as i demean everything on which my hands lay. Strong and thick fingers lay waste to anything commanded of them. Agile yet accurate, i have learned to pull the nerves in my hands like an experienced puppeteer.

These hands of mine are not made to share, but for the purposes of being alone, they will yet serve.

[starsofgraphitechunks]

We stood linked at my doorstep and hid, dropping from a singular stair and ducking beneath the window my mom stood vigil at, laughing at the silhouettes that fled.

When we were caught, I pushed through the threshold where you couldn't follow.

I wish i could tell you the reason i couldn't turn back, just as i wish i could tell you the reason i didn't.

[starsofgraphitechunks]

I remember you.

I remember that time when we were young, and a kid threw up. I remember the panic i felt when you followed. You didn't deserve to feel hurt clawing up your throat. You don't deserve to feel hurt.

I remember when my cousin came to visit. I remember being brave. I remember standing vigil over you and answering questions that we would share regardless. You hid behind my right shoulder. You were always a head shorter.

I remember the summer before our last. You had a school ipad. I thought it was the coolest, you knew it was not. We played games i hadn't seen since kindergarten, and you won every time.

I remember every piece of you, and in return you accept every piece of me.

Until the very end.

[starsofgraphitechunks]

I wonder if your friends know my name.

I suppose you would have to remember it first.

You told me that you made me strong, that you made me sly, that you made me smart.

You always told me i was better than you.

I just didn't believe you until you forgot the name of your efforts.

[starsofgraphitechunks]

I know theres a god. I've seen it on their name tag. They escribe their holiness on every page they sign. They divulge their divinity to every poor soul who picks up their business card. They enact their heavenly judgement on their subordinates and subjects.

I have seen god, in well tailored suits and ill begotten gains.

I have seen god, and I've seen them turn their nose up at humanity

I have seen god, and i know they aren't kind. There is no kindness where there is absolute power.

I have seen god, and they have deflected the blame to a higher power while taking the praise for themself.

I have seen god with hell trapped behind my teeth and a schooled expression on my face.

I have C'n god and they have succumbed to Ego's Opulent influence.

I have seen god and they told me i was not worth enough for salvation.

[starsofgraphitechunks]

I scream a question to any wall who will stick around to listen.

It bounces off the walls and back down my throat.

It glances off of ears and onto countless pages.

It is begged of gods above and "gods" in their offices.

It is begged of my own empty chest.

I ask the world "to what end?" And it shoves the words back on my tongue

[starsofgraphitechunks]

Winter was your favorite season. You loved the cold, the way the chill embraced you down to the bones.

Maybe that's why you loved me.

The winter is cold and will suffocate you if you remain still too long, drowning a peaceful crystalline death.

The winter will take your warmth and will steal your vision.

The winter will keep others away from you, trap them inside to melt.

The storms will not flee when you tell them your problems.

The winter will love you isolationistly and indiscriminately.

Maybe winter was my favorite season too

[starsofgraphitechunks]

Whenever i think of dew drops i think of you.

We were almost too young to be kids, finding a shadow to lay in.

And i remember how the dew of the grass seeped through my pants. My legs were soaked and all was well.

The rough of brick against my back and the temptation of the fence dangling in front of my eyes felt like everything i could've needed.

We roamed our new home in every shadow, and we explored a new quest with every day.

And even now as I'm trying to hold on to myself and adulthood crawls like vine up my arms, i still think of you with every step i take in the early morning, the tears of the night not yet flicked off the grass.

I was too little to know i loved you, but i hope you felt the same.

[starsofgraphitechunks]

A younger version of myself wanted my organs donated, bones ground to make chalk, and hair donated to make a wig.

A younger version of myself wanted to be useful in death considering i was useless in life.

An older version of myself holds me gently and whispers in my ear that one day i will be scared of death.

An older version of myself lies.

As i am today, i do not want nor fear much at all.

As i am today, i cannot find it in me to care much at all.

[starsofgraphitechunks]

i will love you like fire loves wood, you will feed me, and i will kill you. ill reduce you to ash and ill burn that down too, and ill love you so thoroughly that all you can feel is warm

i will love you like Vesuvius loved Pompeii and i will love you like engines love gasoline. i will love you and i will break you and i will leave you all the same.

i will love you like axe loves tree, and i will take from you to fulfill my goals, i will cut you down until all that is left is a heart shaped stump. and I will move on. and you will not. the axe forgets but the tree remembers