Maladaptive Day Dreaming

Just a giant dumping ground for all my subpar poetry and other idle thoughts

[sundayhazed]

I look at you and feel a certain weakening in my body

Every time

[sundayhazed]

Intimacy is not about skin or sex

It’s about truth

Barring open your soul to stand in front of someone naked

To be excepted and cherished

[sundayhazed]

I’m sure you seldom miss the mess and baroness

In exchange for a much softer bed

And a much softer woman

[sundayhazed]

Leave me in the soft glow of the kitchen at midnight

As I curl myself within a cardboard box

With just a quiet sense of something lost

[sundayhazed]

I don’t see myself in anyone,

Except You

And I don’t want you anymore, so

I don’t want anyone

I don’t want the person in the mirror

I wouldn’t know her if I saw her

[sundayhazed]

Sometimes the hunter

Is a man with gentle teeth

And soft forgiving hands

[sundayhazed]

Keeping an ancient promise

The moon will rise tonight

[sundayhazed]

When you say leave

I run

When you say

𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦

I say

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨

[sundayhazed]

A melancholy soaked image

Of a lover drenched in gold

Extend his arms with a bouquet of roses

Keep them,

Save them for my funeral

[sundayhazed]

If I think about you too much and too closely

I begin to hate you

[sundayhazed]

Goodnight my darling,

I hope you’re satisfied

The bed is narrow but my arms are wide

Find solace in knowing

There is a woman still working for your smile

[sundayhazed]

The sheep has spent his entire life

Fearing the wolf

Only to be eaten by the Shepherd

[sundayhazed]

This week is going by so slow

An entire year has passed

[sundayhazed]

At dawn my lover will dig under the gates of Eden

We will crawl into paradise covered in mud

[sundayhazed]

The world of the jester

Blurs behind the heavy velvet curtain

The blood in his eyes

after each punchline

He stands on the stage

With a snake in both his fists

While a hurricane is blowing

When will the show be over

[sundayhazed]

I am your eternal consequence

[sundayhazed]

The roses growing outside make no reference to former roses nor to better ones. They are for what they are;there is no time to them. They are simply the rose.

Perfect for every moment of its existence