Your hands will
do tomorrow and strangle
till its a silent yesterday.
i promise your
preface goes in your pocket
this is its place of
demon dreams
of lovers
slide through your
shallow perception of existence
to a swan turning its double nature towards you
the goose you can touch, whats more you cant
reach the double bars of pleasure and failing became a sweet thoroughfare
tasted alone.
En-graven and rich with lust you act out your life.
Immersion into
introversion was her word
in deep fields of your own disbelief
she has no things while no day finds her better
simply toiling to pretend Connie exists within
she rolls around in her own imaginary filth
this is where you find her
Where you have been living.
Seeing you naked in the railer park
made of two bodies this time but no faces
only eyes remain. you loose them later
when you have me break the front of diligence
our dissolution.
of want to fill a deep innocence
i ride into the night fuming with
dissonance.
flowing through mouth and
I know its my new lifeblood.
There's a sea of you and me within
you finally see the ashes reflecting
discontent rises lurching and churning
in froth and bubbles you find yourself
but pass bye only
ceasing to be in existence you fade into a
state of insatiable disrepair
despairing at your own iconic stupidity
Eating the past flesh you fall to violence.
Now every word and sight you feel within the facade
i can never get out and have
plane naked morality. Eyeing the apple of your desire you
realize you don't really care for fruit.
Get this person out of me It's lying through my lips
And i truly care not for the things It speaks at all.
TagsIsaiah, Atkinson, Poetry