

Untitled 1I am the frail blue seeping from every corner I am the whale-song breath of the river as its mute of a lap continues on I am a welcoming haze of nature smog waiting for you at the door I am the convoluted street of the mundane you stuck on call waiting I am the flutter of saxophones gasping for smoke I am the cranial cartilage of steadfast yearning I am the obvious answer to that unasked question I am Southern comfort through stained-glass shopping carts I am the magnificent radiance of your burnt-out bulb I am the whistle of an out-of-tune air guitar strumming in the wind I am the cUntitled 1


Moving Pictures, Pt. 1Her stare still transfixed in front, she is oblivious to the stealth sleeper in her own lap. The cuddled state she mistook for affection allowed the slumbering to continue without interruption. The sermon was a good one, yes, but the dreams were better. The exploits of the man named Christ couldn't hold the flicker of a candle to riding a flying unicorn through lands made of marshmellow and ice cream. The saccarine utopia's bidding held its captive stronger than any Psalm could, yet the mother's stare remained unmoved from the man of the cloth. His words meant salvation, and salvation was far too important for her to join her dreaming sleep bMoving Pictures, Pt. 1


SelfListen through the stereophonic whispers Allow the voices to wash over you in warm splendor Voices echoing the thoughts of millions Millions who want only one thingSelf
Barbed wire barriers waste those who walk without meaning The longing can do nothing to sever the spiny walls What is there left to do but hope, pray, and wonder? We want only one thing
The wire tempts those unwary ones with its promise Its words twisted with enticing ruin Knowing no bounds, no limitations, it takes us in We need only one thing
We are lost, shrouded by the prideful sea of
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<3 meh kitty
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