polar capes are melting, coarse, i can feel my knees fusing. im frustrated my heart has found its flutter. i need to show you my lungs. sorrow carts such deafening smiles. night winds tickling the feet of curled curtains. tetragon forehead, prosaic shape-shifting. who spilt leek and potato soup on the coral reef? octoglot nose and sophocles sarcastic chin smirk. typical movie-star-stop-pose arrogance. meet the oncoming freight train face first. .(sigh). in attempts to glow, i will donate my wings to the fireplace. tonight, i can taste the mosquitos biting me. collectively, im not a martyr. please don’t froth at me with such contempt. drool is too thick to evaporate. legions of breath smelling like bouquets in hospitals. why do your hands remind me of venus de milo. underneath these scars and scabs that have been picked away from obsessive indecision and compulsive tensionitis lie stories unstitched and i am willing to open them up to your not so quite molded hands and almost ripened core. the only thing i am afraid of is you leaving me, and me never returning. it is such starry night, minus the stars. today i saw a staircase that led to a house that wasn’t there. lets dismantle the chapel. this egg-white sink keeps dripping. last night i dreamt in lines. an eloquent index for potential suicide. intent is always tension ridden, and tantrums are measured by way of teeth marks. whats cricket? lets split. splitted. splitting. splitter. splat. splut. splot. splintered secrets, truth yields its own thorns. so how substantial is potential? possibility disability. recycle your saved prayers. if you are a poet, youre just an excuse to prostitute language. assuage the broken faucets dripping. ultraviolence sunglasses to filter the grim. byzantine bronze follicles of scalp. im only picasso-faced to suit this waltzing discomfort. your eyes can not be replaced. stress. quit pressing me. black and white keys on a piano bellowing. pollution yellowing at me. do it, try remembering your earliest memory. im unzipping my tongue and pulling out all the right things to say to you even though language is a lie…like life. (s)he who knows, doesn’t talk. physical beauty can be misinterpreted as incompetence. of all the great carving forces out there, convention is the most notorious. expression is the greatest imperfection; inarticulation is an emotional illiteracy. optimism has been infamous for its undying distortion. suffocation can be synonymous with realization. even under infinite skies, there will invariably be those who still feel claustrophobic. inevitability can be avoided. there will always be industries for incompatibility. relativity can only be measured in terms of reflection. do not succumb to the beckoning of always accomplishing; remember, bridges are the ones that want you to cross them. misunderstanding is the only battle you will fight every minute of your life. you will never be fed a pure form. you can never see purity. you can only feel it. tranquillity ends in misery ends in tranquillity ends in misery... it takes the wisest of men to admit his genius is a collection of verbal movements.
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