I
walk this hallway semi-inert or an under-breath presence; something about love
or something about forgiveness at something a bit inordinate; our cages with
sweetbread our anomalies by apologetics so keen into something we can’t see;
such
music in brains such random forces (to have met when it struck). But a man is
stigmata those winds are foreign this feeling is charged.
I
heard pure silence into forest through trees into darkness to claim light;
more
a winning privilege or patient suffering while some are begging for Armageddon.
—to
imagine pleading for death in honor of some hope while forfeiting this fight;
but days are simmering where ghosts are embodying while gusts by doors are
rattling; this old kitsch has become mother’s torment while so close to Stephen
King; to return so often or to feel so familiar while loving someone comes too
naturally—
I
have subsumed traits or transformed characteristics in this attempt to please
Invisibility; or mostly a person so cursed in our lives while wrong decisions
come to aches or sutures.
A
daughter would watch television some horror caption—sitting or cringing
vehemently; those violent shivers thrown by suspension at something becoming a
dream; a daughter might drop a tear listening to an inner chamber while
flipping through stations; this valley of doors this intense reality or those
days making up stories for something that doesn’t quite fit.
We
live in something this forcefield chasing while our minds are ignoring our
existence.
If but a true feeling one
proffering guidance aside for being what we desire. But fire becomes conviction
or agony becomes vengeance into something while undergoing surgeries; this one
destiny to believe richly while running from humanity; to meet on adventure to
dislike our visual while one sees something imperfect.
Such
horror by perception if but to control perception if but to overthrow castles;
such by love such by treachery where one becomes quite morbid; indeed, to
release forgiveness, to over-exhaust it, or to believe that humans are
inherently deviant; if given an opportunity, if but an unseen opportunity,
while most would dishonor this picture.
I
let things go unless it is to heart while I can’t understand chaotic paints; to
make a film to create a feeling where one realizes it makes no sense; or to
hold a heart so close it thumps while feeding selfsame heart bowls of vinegar;
there must be deaths, they must come quickly, or they wait until an hour before
we cross.
