Swirling shafts of light,
Like sharks swimming in the dead of night,
I fear the sizzle as a seal might fear the bite.
Walking with weight in my purpose and poise,
Heavy steps loud and shaken by a littered leaking mound of noise,
Night terror string straight into my state as I'm spitting out static stuffing that touchy teacher employs.
You're a sick and sadistic lovingly pessimistic station of forgone fluidity and mundane monster manipulation to the point of absurdity,
Your lessons languish in bright light and killer kisses goodnight,
A person of principal and of motherly judicial jerks surrounding compounding shredded silence confounding.
My heart is a mess echoing heckling bedhead ridden dead secrets whispering lingering in shivering,
A lost sense of time lost to the urgency of me in steadily stranded sanity splintering and slivering,
Bright moon eyes in the star of the sun recoiling under your command in burning and trembling in short stacked sizzling.
You're a summertime sickness,
Une pièce de résistance and une pièce de pestilence,
A showcase and a showpiece of propagated pain raked into an absence of any ample armed resistance strangled in a deadly emotional dissidence.
You bring the night to a close,
Stir in a stewing loud silence into hot heated sorts of circus shows,
Bring the brunt of the burn to the bud of the misery to boil out the toil and mud of titular knowledge nobody else knows.
Shut eyes,
Smut slicked lies,
'Till the day the dealer decides it dies.
-end-
YOU ARE READING
-Good Morning, Stranger-
PoetryThey sound like such simple words, But they cut into me so. Such simple places, But they all seem to move so slow. Maybe if I were a lover, I could make it freeze up in summer, So I won't have to forget, The way you and I would hold each other as we...
