I
fly low, spacial and demented, but casual as ladybugs: this flying frenzy, this
incredible high, communing with helium: our guts, Love, so sick with essence,
afforded a bucket of ashes: this astronaut soul, this flippant maniac, this
calm repentance: as afloat with time, warring against time, but a casualty of
Time: to seep into dungeons, to exit caldrons, to simmer in disgusts: those
days with justice, this aloof creature, this enlove distance: or something
sickly, as thoughts to persons, but repulsed by ideals: at magic hearts,
listening to souls, feeling a particular beat: those old friends, to hate his
guts, where Love needed his advice: at planks debating, at cliffs with
Kierkegaard, at life seeping as Malcolm: to walk so keenly, to return with
difficulty, or to imagine a proper apology: at semi-arks, at quasi-darkness,
where mystics are dearly inverted: as inside-out, running through clouds,
attempting to grip a steady footing: those bashful feelings, this inner
discipline, or feeling too wild to leave excitement: where fire is paramount,
or ghosts are phantom-born, while churning for sick and lacking discipline:
this shift in communion, this turn in delights, or this absent emotion feeling
like apathy: our daily shifts, our daily infatuation, or those tried and true mathematics. It comes with hatred, this inner majesty,
to despise murky atmosphere: or dearly there, a cut of life, while too deep to
escape: while mother was gentle, mother was cruel, but sick to love and smooth:
this acme reply, while fencing dungeons, or walking by prisons: those
reminders, this blanket, or this immediate wall—while dear to honesty, a tear
responsive, to ensure never for airs for something insecure: at funeral graves,
pitching a fit, while balking in silence: those black ashes, to palm a fist-full,
to ingest bone with matter: our drifts through rains, our pains speaking
sky-language, our highs seeming defenseless: at absolutes, feeding upon
reality, a tear disenchanted with pluralities: our postmodern insights, our
last cry, while bled for existence: if but to live, while Love administers
joys, or Love becomes so distant a fool tries harder: at remarkable feelings,
to divest apathy, where it soon returns: this hard countenance, this wisdom countenance,
this immediate responsiveness: as roaming valleys, or shackled by resistance,
as bottles clank in sequences: those rabid soldiers, this soul with rabies, our
foaming mouths! I can’t for losing,
our awkward encounter, to witness a mini-deceiver: this torn insanity, this
proud mother, and children becoming our past-lives: this tunnel of sorrow, as
standing in stillness, too ashamed to redirect: but hell for it, and dice for
it, as gambling for spaghetti—this beaming reality, this falling curse, a bit
too gravel: as sober and thinking, or remorse to skies, while feeling
justified: as dearly resistant—to closeting trauma, where a maniac laughs and
dies with rants: this inner colony, this sure army, as souls gravitating
towards acceptance: our dirtiest deeds, this yes person, our grout becoming
steep essence: at torn beliefs, at torn existence, feeling behavior as
something tremendous: this need to disbelieve, this need to be deranged, while
pissed with those that pass judgment: our lives, Love, as going against grains,
where most are jealous: for life commands, and morals enslave, while one is apt
to need security: this hard angle, this testy angel, or days to wishing for
pure debaucheries. I need insistence,
or something to grip tightly, or something eternal: while love is lethal, while
love is gray, where one would love for pavements: this abstract existence, by
nothing but attributes, by nothing but experience: to finally fathom, this
subjective nature, as one striving through objective conflicts: this dear soul,
as aloof to presence, while eye-to-eye with something eerie: that sudden
tsunami, this inner sky-strike, while both afforded admiration: to retrieve in
likeness, to sing our essence, to respell our impressions: to change our Nike’s,
to shift our hats, to unravel our scarves—as men watching, or women
interacting, while one needs something consistent.
