#-sarne

[publicmisdemeanor]

Naturally I was afraid of the things yet to come, but still I stood. Forgive me, my knees buckled and from falling I spilled my burdens, but I prayed someone would see my pain and offer to share the weight with me. And from my failure to hold onto the world that was given to me, I’ve gained a new strength to help me raise it from the ground and back up. Cause to be victorious you must find glory in the little things and I will count your every kiss on my bruises as a thousand and one blessings.

[publicmisdemeanor]

Dirty Converses

Like dirty converse sneakers size five and a half in boys chilling on the end of the sidewalk ironically as I walk towards them I feel a flush or a blush, rush my cheeks and lips as they make a wry crinkle across my face the simplest things create the most  joy in our daily lives I must atest best when spontaneous and cleverly unexpected mmm mmm mmm so good, so good my heart runs out of breath  everytime from over excitement Warming up my feet with dance exhilerated my blood flow, leaving my pores in a gaping aw the drool streaming down, cooling my body Strumming my chords till a sultry tone vibrated my drums and relaxed my un-nerving tensions with not a melodic symphony, but harmonic wonders of perfect  fourths and fifths and minor and dimished thirds Carving poetic words into the ridges of our minds under starlit skies every other night ending in the warmth of our mending figures and endless  conversation of our idealistic thoughts of the day Random travles to secret castels and shell infested sands of the shore with mother sun laying down and father moon rising for a kiss Loving love and not worrying about  the practicality of its invisible hold on our soul I walk down the rest of the sidewalk  with my broken in converse perfectly dirty and vintaged with  an authentic touch  strolling in the shoes of an old awaiting the moment to revitalize the gravel once always under where the day peaks just right, over the horizon of the south shore with waves racing  up, crashing down losing the trail of shadows left behind in the uneven footsteps of the dark.

[publicmisdemeanor]

Shells

this love, this last stage of dehydration 

well, well past dire starvation 

cotton mouths and brittle bone

stretched out on a hollow crutch of 

the last bed 

I’ll ever lay my head to wake

full of grace and falling from the fingertips of the Lord            

an empty vial filled with the vapors of desperation

condensing on thy cheek as I inhale

long and deep, broken

So I speak, in shards of repitition

So to speak, “so long as man is a sinner

I shalt not trust in him

divulge in him

dwell in lust for him

in the name of the sun, the wholly spirit, and the shotgun”

trigger a rejoice in remembrance of