

The Edge of BlissI swim in a tide of swirling colors Everything encased in a film of palest blue Like a razorblade, your words I bleed the blood of the masochist Green, it slips From the wounds you slice Into me letting pretense Drift away on the purple currents Accented by glints of pastel yellow A cacophony of color in which I float, drift Retaining no sense of direction The structure of your sentences Cradle me in unthinkable compassion Plunge me into a warm contentment Of the deepest magenta and euphoria Even though your syllables, put together Form sleekThe Edge of Bliss


The Weakness"Strong," he told me In a moment of calm A bridge of our joint song "Strong," spoke sincerelyThe Weakness
Can you see Our naked hopes Over the pleas Reality invokes?
A two-time burnout Under the snow-scud skies Trust the hope to churn out Bronze semiprecious lies
"Strength," the serpent spoke Naming his last enemy Amassing his ever weaker weapons So all the more he could entrust to me
Press your lips to overcast skies Spreading ripples over sequined waters Face the hero who in the end dies Never admit to yourself t


My Point AcrossI paint my truest thoughts black And transpose to a minor key Swirling mists confound my path I ask only for your sympathy Therefore I paint my tongue black And spew forth petty lies Breathe in the night air And ensure clots of darkness To stop your heart one day One frolicking holiday Let Blue and Red And Violet And yMy Point Across


forgotten apocalypse“Hello, love.” I speak into the funneling sky That, like a megaphone, magnifies my message And sends it ricocheting through dimensions Until it rests in the hypocrisy between two ill-fated stars “Hello.” The winds that rise and stir the woeful gray around my ankles Ascend and whisper absence in my waiting ear I slip into the familiarity of the disappointment expected But allow new words to form under my calloused defense “I’m still waiting for you.” The words hurtle toward the twilight sky of heirloom porcelain And—crack—stick thereforgotten apocalypse
Cracking the sky like lacy ice o
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Over the piano was printed a notice: Please do not shoot the pianist. He is doing his best.
Haha. Have a good day.
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-Just me.
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Over the piano was printed a notice: Please do not shoot the pianist. He is doing his best.
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