complacent to adjacent facets of our faces
it's invasive to make sense of harvy dent's when he hardly repents
and some nights my loneliness extracts the oxygen out of my unearthing attempts to exist in a world where i no longer am missed
where i witness no consistent from nothing but mishaps and a settlement with desire to back track so i wont relapse to depression and vanish
like man "am i speaking spanish? "
the compression of affection is like suppressing a light from shining by placing your hands around the bulb
and when the light burns the inside of ur palms u lose the tendency to hold on and we call this shit tough love
but hold on
my weaknesses are strong
i may not belong
i may only know the melodies of sad songs
but what i ponder upon is not misapprehensions or wrong
and if i knew how to channel my emotions towards a devotion that could cook up a number 9 potion things would finally be in motion
im a exigent to the bereavement kind
for the love that creep up on us from behind
for those sentry barriers of one's mind
//e.b.
YOU ARE READING
DIRTY LAUNDRY
Poetryjust another underrated poetry book, a poetic photograph of the saddest months of my life from Jan 2016- May 2016 ***BEWARE PROFANITY***
