I
skip to a beat, I eat heart-yeast, life is dying without an end. I miss you I praise
you I remember deep disdain; a creature plucking shrapnel, a monster contained,
looking at psychs—wondering what in gods is in there? right behavior, wrong
calculations, such a deficit in me; upon a scarecrow, upon a crush, pleased you
backed away. it’ll disappear, I’ll meet another, it’s crazy when the past doesn’t
count.
clad
in a black river, dancing with eagles, soaring, flitting, landing in caves.
the
tempest is dolor, the melancholy is joy, wiped out by happiness. a broken
symmetry. a mixture of good versus bad. I noticed it was harder to speak.
in
fields we pick cotton, if innocence we hurt each other, if rigid we say
such-and-such is a psychopath—depending on responses, he thinks too much, over
there is sameness but a different culture. I can’t paint it clearer.
I
was eager to be passive. you kept pushing. have you a notion of you?
it
seems procedural. it’s innocuous. so it’s unmonitored. it’s taken for granted.
the splendor of the infraction, surefire wealth in vengeance, our coven has
plans for your future. it sounds crazy!
form
remains formless, axioms are discouraged, aphorisms are debated. wisdom is
pregnant. pain feels good. he must be sick.
