The weighted metal cover Holding high the heavens Settles over And on us Uneasy. We are waiting on a birth. We're unaware and unsure If the tranquillized sky Is actually expecting. Cars in awe will smash And slide off highways. Venerating pipes will swell And bulge And burst. The guilty trees will be bowed down Confessing reverent And snap. And yet, we open arms and stare Beside ourselves And float up prayers for softest flakes And cloud carpets to drop upon The filthy earth. - 1/10/25
I stagger through your room, A man too drunk On what I thought was water. You are wrapping darkness Like a robe About your body, Never speaking truth And never telling lies Exactly. The blackly cotton sky Removes its cloudy clothing For a moment, The full and naked moon Now truth enough For everything. - 3/25/25
She wishes She could tan Beneath fluorescent Lights. The constant static Far too soft, The sterile air, The cool cocoon Bathed in beige And calm yet morbid grey, But neutral bland chromatics Never fostered Sprouting wings. That process sounds too gory, Filled with hurt. She hates this Fraudulently promising cage But isn't quite convinced A step away Would lead to green And indigo. She's finished with All pain Forever. She remains, Longing for a window. - 5/16/25
Comments
Post a Comment