My skin is pale with blinding hopes; shotty wishes that strike my sins well.
Hollow, humming wells that've never been more dry and cold.
Feeble in the wake of a Goddess
And miserable in the light of day.
Superb at his timely drunken stupor,
From where Repetition leaves one in a glass half empty;
Mercury to the brim.
Grey and dense, I am.
My mind is black with tangled thoughts; painful ideas that threaten to choke.
Twisted, twined masses of thread that’ve never been more choatic and torrid.
Anemic in the aftermath of a divine Man
And melancholic in the light of day, feeling less than.
First-rate when she consumes poison.
From where stress bleeds from punctured veins;
In oblivion she swims, until the waves crash down.
Painful and dis-eased, I am.
Dancing swallows, in the evening sun, wilt jaggedly to the ground,
Surrounded by the bouquet they have come to know and love.
Picturesque in a picture-perfect nest.
I am the one who, first, fell off the branch
Into the self-serving hole th