toirosuibi

That little bonus of my heart on your chest makes me seem less forgotten fractured, unspoken yet I keep dreaming wide awake of your head resting upon my breast and my shallow breath worrisome as we wait for light leaks in photo trays of grey cloud engulfed skies yet all I can see are cold cracked windows on damp walls, written in mandarin as rain bounces off of floors in the empty gardens of shame I'm shielded by soot covered wings wishing for whispers sweet nothings from a dove tree I fear dreaming a dream where I lose it all

scratch blueprints into her bark, her ground, her sea. stumble amidst the tumbleweeds, born from the stomach of her wretched earth, and witness her mothers' sweet decay blossoming blossoming far away. where broken legends renounce their life: pray a solemn cry for regeneration.   tear open the seal, rip open her soul- where pages are left imprinted, just unread. breathe, and unravel her lies lies: her beautiful beautiful forged lies; where she's calling now, her vacant mind a famine in the harvest; where she's waiting now, a crisp frost splintering through june, her letters sown and scattered amongst the soil. bury yo

I was somewhere in Wyoming     driving        to a state park of some sort    drunk on tequila         and my first real taste       of someplace I didn't know. We'd spent the three days prior        doing essentially the same thing we were now,   and, in our early twenties,           none of us had begun to tire. It's a funny thing            th

Theres not enough time to conquer the world Barely enough to cover your eyes. Walk with me toward the woods in disguise. Tell me you love me while you look in my eyes. No one will know, No one can see Come on, honey, Dance with me. Dont say a word Let's just dance in the woods. Sneak through the trees, We'll watch the world die. Listen to the stories while the trees cry. Never turn back Never go down. Leave this place. Leave this town. No one will know. No one can see. Come on, honey, Dance with me. Dont say a word Let's just dance in the woods.

She speaks only when spoken to, her voice then loud sometimes, in assertion or sometimes barely audible in mumbled dissent. There is no spirit muted, trapped all too sentient in prisoning flesh. These are but firecrackers of a memory decomposed, small explosions triggered by speechless voices, hallucinations that echo through the spirals of her inner ear.

Here is home, here is familiarity here is love in death in all sincerity Here in black water, amongst trees of ash The landscape of eternal slumber and solitude here spirits are free, no secrets kept in the nude the bare nakedness of dead wood and If I could, if I would, if I should I'd wait and rest forever in black water park Here is home, here is familiarity here is love in death in all sincerity Here in black water, amongst trees of ash Here, in Black Water Park

I cradle the globe in my fist, risking the ocean spray and moonlit tides just to feel your bewildered irises lock with mine and your breath rush through my tilted axis. The smudges from your half unread atlas cut my scars in half, and I’ll swear to your unexplored oceans that I can find the needle in your haystack and bring you back home. I saw civilizations rise and fall through my peephole in the asteroid belt of my backroom window, and never before have I been so engrossed in the simplicity of daisy chains and hopscotch markings and carved initials in the spines of trees. I always meant every syllable and when y

Woman is a painting A piece lovingly created Her meaning changing In the eye of every patron Her moods seem abstract Perhaps her figure Rubenesque Her mind to one, true realism To another surreal And her love always A matter of Impressionism. Woman is a mannequin Some would drape her finely Reagal velvets, ermine capes Yet designers would bicker Those same proud shoulders Should wear the beige housedress The same color as the wall Until she is not seen at all And still more argue for gare Bright red garters hold up Fishnet stockings welcoming all To feel her every delight, while Next week she steps into the Virgin petti

What of black and white? or shortness versus height? What about smiles that hide our tears? And joy that overtakes our fears? When the beauty of light shines in the dark, and the stillness of silence is broken by a bark. When political passion is dulled by the latest fashion, If peace is our one creed, why is the world overcome with greed? With a spark of hot fire to melt the cold ice, We wonder if our efforts will suffice? As the morning sun follows the moons glow, Before death, in life we must grow. When good overcomes evil in the battle of might, Man, woman, old and young must unite. Yet, the final question of our worlds stat