—so
much silence or retraumatized such seas; to conjure intensity such fever and
density where most try but resisted; this fretted force those wailing acorns
upon winded forest; our dusty meadows while determined cries to loosen while
abased; our souls effaced our moral-grace while trenchant into an erased status—
—but islands spatial our
dreams and tender music into atmospheres—those cello vines those obtuse
chandeliers at incredible sensibilities; our delicate situation our traveling
anguish while intently presumed as an unlike creature; such depth and demon
such angst and diamond while frantic and bottled within; our silent hostilities
or something becoming its worries where energies are subsumed by chaos—
…there
were cloves and cauliflower, insult and injury, too close to neatly ignore; so
afraid to advertise it, but so active in living it, while if unheard than it
didn’t happen; those curious feelings, to have desire for substance, or to
believe such a compelling voice; to read by countenance this fury of destinies—those
etching emotions….
…there becomes me peering
into dynasty and feeling estranged; such blight and talisman or chant and
delicacies; to feel invasive with little to contend while pure venom becomes a
sword; hacking at brains and upchucking lungs at such curse and value; our
years as invisibility to awaken and soon by achievements while emotion is sure
affectation; our damaged sentimentalities, that one apology, while watched and reprimanded….
—such
teepee vision as one evaporating to listen closely while internalizing a vile
nature; so thrown away as never feeling self and always bombarded; this
internal engine with another’s face where becoming whole was never an option;
as sacrificing such being while required to give more where owls are
watching; such fever to live such negligence to die, to judge a life by
behaviors; our battling bridges to have destroyed so many where a few gaze and
become numb; those terrible abilities while we lose faith or become nauseous—
—it is good to love in
this wilderness of activities but to maintain love is challenging; so much bile
and odor so many sewers and determinism where giving becomes divisive; such
rich contention or rabid behaviors while thoughts are slipping away from
perception; so forgotten at times at such dreary roads while remorse harvested wrenching
shame; to live as a soul where only strength survives and presuming its character—
…we
seem stagnant where we have been pulled right into another person’s private
war; this indicative-low-chakra behavior where life is always empty and pain is
not a big issue; for it lives forever and it is so intimate and we spread it
thicker than jam; those internal observations to see too many signs while
attempting to harmonize; but time speaks it disregards those mirages and it
links arms with reality….
