Over evolving.
Dopamine soberly blossoms
Noted and jotted in, like an old scripture
Bludgeoning forecast, people make what they want of him
Hold whispers. Cold shivers. So obviously rigged
Language is bothering. Thunderstorm on the brink
On the cusp of oblivion, and never stopping to think
Or wonder, what wanderlust awaits Waverly love
Dozens foreshadowing. Waving red flags like the waging of war
Barefooted resolve. Homosapien scourge
Black pen granule dissolving.
Technicolor gradient torch
Collateral damage. Animal bondage
Lion with his crown of thorns and his lioness hostage
I knew you didn’t love me and it wasn’t a matter of knowledge
It was a matter of topics. You never mentioned before
Casualty tally at the head of the door
Lamb’s blood painting a story nobody knows that goes on
Anxiety outbreaks – three centuries long
He’s so twisted. He’s so rigid.
Never distraught
He stares tacitly at the ceiling while embellishing God
with his headstone reading “I wish you death. Rest in pieces, amor.”
He’s concerned he’s never understood;
Stained by indelible scars
A felon with no parole riding shotgun patrolling in cars
He tosses his palms up in a garden.
A prayer to Ra
Eric Garner’s spirit harnessed when he tries to relay all his thoughts
only to shoulder the weight that buries him all
Bury him. Fall.
Now look at the sowing you reap
He’s a cannibal wolf in a room full of sheep
Thinking how wonderful it’d be if you’d change for me
Self-awareness comes with a cost:
Reality, unlighted tunnels, perilous concepts
Self-destructive. Unhealthy bargaining chips
biting down on stupefaction.
Nothing exists
It’s unrelated. I lick my tongue.
Getting me off
Symphonic bass.
Sweat bead reservoir.
Fucking me raw
We fall asleep.
Counting me, after my unconditional teaching
Teeth in you. Swearing I fucking need it.
Barely breathing.
Rib cage fluctuation, sepia pause.
Throat curvature, palms.
Fixed to your arched spine.
Getting involved.
Brain emitting July’s bohemian sprawl
Reading her body.
Handprint stories on your thigh and neck.
Finger tracing in half speed, panting four times a second.
Close your eyes, heighten senses.
Demonstrably.
Wavering boomerang into unconsciousness.
I call it gigawattage catharsis.
Purge you of any worldly distress.
Whirl on your neck.
Middle finger dug into your nape.
Mine for the time being. Set sail in your lake.
Want to escape, fall into you & dissuade.
Half-life with a half life. Don’t let me decay.
Knowing that we’ll never look at each other the same.
There’s a parrot on my shoulder that already knows what I’ll say.
Boys Don’t Cry: The Paradox of the Wolf and the Sheep
