Indulgence.The decadence ofwritten word will not sufferfate dead and buried.
Desired.Calendar smut gluedas holy murals on walls.How do I compete?
Conflict.Last time Winter broughta boy in tears, pawn conflict,and heartstrings sharpened.
Sexuality.My mother asked once,"Do you even like girls?" Ilaughed, "I like no one."
Bloom.Answer my heat withcold compress of written word;I will bloom within.
Photosynthesis.My love is meadowwhere the flowers grow for you;sunlight eternal.
Letters.I crave taste of daywhen your thoughts are brought to lifein text horizon.
Chained.I dreamt you were here,your arms in place of shackles;captured, happy, free.
Fontanel.I can't write haikuswithout subconscious reveals.My brain is exposed.
Oblivion time....I know there's a placeWhere you can restWhere you can sit and clear mind a bitStop for a whileAnd just disappearI'm sure that you know thisAnd you escape tooWhen you start feeling worthlessYou just seek the retreatYou just want to forgetYou just need more spaceSo you hide from the whole worldOr just from yourself
FaithWhich faith is most trueone where god is made of threeor one that submitscan one truly convert faithor is faith one thingcan god find the path for meor will I struggleshould I look towards gods own sonor towards his prophetcan anyone truly helpor am I alone
Drops of LifeIn a dampened sky,Drops of life begin to fall.How soft is their touch?
Wanted.Seeking silhouette:Read me poetry while ICry feverishly