It's supposed to be with feeling. But all I feel is...It's supposed to be therapeutic. But all I see is...It's supposed to be tranquil. But all I taste is...I'm supposed to be me. But all I accomplish is...There's supposed to be peace. But all I hear is...The songs down the line.
one replaces several, so there isn't an original,pieces floating with particles and cloversdroves of cries, drones, blows, copies of caves, traced to bring veins, vague and graveexceptchildren of Change, to the height heldcatching more than manic meld,driving deep to mountains matchedtrials, tribulations for the two halveshaltedby grafts of skin
sleight rip in the stings of a violintings of strings, a cage of wooda pack of cards flipped to piecescatching cats against the breathsanother window minutes beforethe cage rots away, giving moreshine to the seeds stuck in a holerolling as thunder, a touch of shockone second from midnight freightsdeceiving the curls among the cloudsit takes …
to go up while falling, to grind while soothing,to survive while failing, to grant while moving,to catch while dying, to trying while crashing,to ripping while gathering, to raining while biting,every day
frost covered,cloud frothed,horizon bound,mushroom cloud,seen through skin,bothered bones,cast cuts,droplets green,mothered mass,waves away,breaking throughto another side. to the otherside.
straining, straining, in the moment, trying,dying, straining, to bringgaining, feigning the strainat the end of the night,out of time, no brain,straining, straining,to maintain the rain.
when time is running out,I see two eyes in the blackness,telling me to...break from the chains holdingeach limb, blast of rain,a left arm of grief,a right arm of torment,a left leg of a thief,a leg of an advent,leading towards a ripin the tapestry,searching for a cureto madness,breaking a pattern of sadness.
has been drawn. Now the fight,commences, bloody to the endand lost in a blight, deep in starswondrously bright with wine.
a single word, all that's there, the only thought about, that tracks with tricks to maybe try again,dying, to breathe,rebirth to a state of tears,thinking only thoughts about,trying again
with every choice to live, to lie, to linger.with every thought in mind, to quell my racing heart. that never wants to be subdued. a flare in a maze,a drop on a dune,my heart races to always live, to never sleep,with every choice to breathe, to find my four directions,and find a line to follow.