Accidents

I hedged the web. I caught the cobweb. It passed right on through the opening airways. Oh why, if it were not for me, you would not be here today. I tried to call your phone...
Alas, I was distracted by a car receiving an accident.
Incidentally, I caused my own accident with you.
I begged for you to ice skate with me
and you abided to the tone of my voice
to stand tall, stride small, skate to me.
And you fall right onto your face and broke your nose.
How could I have avoided you in my life to begin with?

Planned and the Unplanned

Seeing this for the first time made me quake
I screamed at the sight of flesh in my head
as an lipid and trilobite arranges crawling
bacteria into deathly, unseen places.
To live in my bubble of poison and craze
desire a change in every single way.
Just seeing all that he could be every creep
of my eyebrow hair stood on end deciding
the direction of up and out is so scary and
deep breaths of moisture fossilize like
my crystal of contempt I reached a faze
that I rather not care anymore because
it is easier and I float on a feather I am
raped by men in every dream at night
I feel used and unwanted every waking
day of my life. Just look at me and all
that I could be but I am none of that.
Baking, baking, melting like ice
melting, sheering like rice
sheering, seething like spice.
Laugh at me
you will
once
you
see
me
.
.
.
.
:
.
.
:

Made

I made it once
I made it twice
The third not even close to done.
Moth love
a simple trait,
teach me every way in which to debate.
Roman columns
are masculine and straight
try to comb grass
feel it hesitate.
Lungs lurk
skunks squirt
leaves leech
derping derps.
I hope no one
not even me
retaliates.

Acheing

A full tree never dies unless earth decrees
that the following condition of the roots deems unworthy.
Never  let a raven sing until you have sung a song or two.
Like my words roll on for free, so does the bare bed sheets.
Rub charcoal on your face until you look lovely.
Death shall envelop sanctity as sacred vows choose to envy thee.

Curtains of Grape

I caught a wretched disease while playing croquet the other day. My dearest friend Mary revealed a secret to me of how she has not been feeling herself as of late. Perhaps she's passed it on to me? Yesterday was so quaint; Mary and I gossiped over tea, fed each other muffins, swapped cute cat pictures, and ran around the field after croquet. I feel more sick then ever. Maybe I am dyeing.

Morose Wicked Rose Dream

My dingy, dark lashes lock on dust. I want clearer vision to stare at the moon in full view. I imagine a rose as large as the moon, blooming as it reflects the sunlight and collects all the moths to it's sensual pollen spores. Each moth will have collected too much pollen weighing their wings down that they fall fast to earth and burn up in the atmosphere. All this happens as I helplessly watch wishing the moths did not have to die, that from such a beautiful gigantic rose would induce this much strife to the moth population! Oh god make it stop! At that moment... I wake up.

It Was Okay...

Evil is a sterling silver plate
resting at the edge of circus and blame
it mirrors my rejection and shame.
Coughing up redundancy or reluctant pain,
nothing enters a circle when one has not become
a pioneer of beauty in this age.
Articulate lighting streaks kill delicate people
flower blossoms fly away in whirlwind games
nature has power to slaughter thousands.
And in my room I sit holding my head in my lap
chopping off the skull from the forehead
to carve out the brain of annoyance
and rid myself of senseless blunders
that keep others away from me.
In the end I know I'll cure
my headaches of insanity
bring me closer to surreal reality.
Ratify the doubt,
violate the violent violet cranes whisked away
on a necklace chain all for me to wear
around my nape and please,
do not escape...
I need you now.
You are most crucial to a spherical place
an assignment of grace or hate - I cannot tell
the difference at any rate.
My fingers never feel the same touching you
eye lids blink empty
and now full
such as the tides that come to go
and leave again
until I get tired of this race chilling me.
Bitter, broken heart has no need for new love
the old love was false.
An old tree is always the greatest feeling
in the world as the rough bark fills my arms
and beetles crawl over my hair.
Wayward frills, misery intensifies
stay alive with the devil.