Shades of charcoal sand
Yellow-bellied lizard's a snake in the dimness
An inky, sooty chimney
Bleeding onto the tattered page
Cobwebs in head, a desolate attic
Punctuation thunders like bursts of bullets
Penetrating sea
Dully drifting, 'til momentum
Surges like highly caffeinated
Bloodshot saucers
Wading in sunflowers
The safest route
Secluded, true bias must emerge
Unless demonic presence clamps
With fiery stares of an antithetic state
Fade into burgandy
The most vivid rose
Has the sharpest thorns
The dandelions harbor the bloom
The planted conceal it very soon
Once was lost, once was green
'Til I became a majestic weed
When drenched in loathing
One must extract
The venom that poisoned the plant
Crimson flesh sizzles like a griddle
Tumultuous storms ignite plunging droplets
Clacking upon the surface, hissing
A serpent’s tongue lashes
Propelled like a jagged arrow
Encroach upon hysteria
Toes immersed in soil
Greenery encompassing
Drained into veins, a soothing sedative
Pills and peace, your vice
Flag waving in the nippy breeze
It rips to shreds
Peppering the grains
The seeds the moonlight dreads
Claws remain in Earth, awaiting blindness
Sink heels, the dampness, dewy slits
Seize your core, with a brusque submersion
Shot from a cannon, your sole weaponry
Darkness renders heavy heart, frail limbs
Torn expression, sordid complexion
Swirls gushing in the distance
Rabbit hole tumble, a tortured pinwheel into the haphazard, electric enigma
Devour vibrant membranes that pierce points
*the problem with poetry is that i'll never, ever feel like i'm done. no matter what. it's infinite.
*the problem with poetry is that i'll never, ever feel like i'm done. no matter what. it's infinite.
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