paralipses stole her scent from me
freckled and white knuckled, numbly
sometimes the lights in the darkness don't seem warm
all youd want is distraction but hunger is feverish and in denial
dissected submission isn't what is want
why do they all hold a piece and has it ever been equal
to what's left inside for future winters and summers
does the time alone and trapped beside us take your time
or is it spent on taped together evidence of worship
if the hope is healthy why are scars on display
what instinct presumes that standards are mellow
and why do your hearts betray their stories
consumed by the idea that nothing is the treasure,
concealed by a gleaming forest of pyres walled with glass,
i dont care for the fire but your time is worth swallowing
voices shatter dogmatic silence
swearing angels sometimes lie
broken and undeterred
your tears are imagined
life is a wheel of ever-loving minefields
bent on employing you to end with grace
and im not sure that the only way to blow up is fading away,
but it feels like embers are consoling and the fire is drastic.
without the fire i dont wonder much, and when i stop wondering,
i know that im dead beside your pets and silver saints
its the eyes that dodge that fall apart inside a mind made for challenge
faster than the sun, to meet you, but slow as can be to turn away
what's the difference in a siren and a lighthouse if the shore is empty
who taught you how to learn to swim and was it worth their worry
the sky unearths me and speckled starlight breaks in waves of boredom
the treasure is trouble for nothing and the weather minds no manners
so who can take the weather from a starving callow hunter
is it right to ask the gods to sacrifice divinity for purpose
if their charge is your faultline and their books are our minds
bullets dance through warming skin
letting out the ink that matters
a cold sanctuary twists and kisses
i won't miss me, what is this..
