Fortitude
This majestic fortress
Dreams once lived,
Now is a liquid
Graveyard.
Fortune proved inept
In the wake of
Human anguish.
Boundaries were broken,
Hope was an unadultered
Fantasy of the young.
Still they clung
To a diamond-dusted
Love, and the promise
Of never forgetting.
As Monet’s lilies
Went below the depths
With crystalline souls.
Accidental Vandalism
This is a legitimate danger, you and I.
I’m like your heroin, and you’re flying
All the time.
My oblivious addiction to frying
Ants, unsuspecting, with lenses that
Magnify.
We can’t get enough happiness.
You love being happy, and I
Love pretending that I want to
Be happy.
Secretly reveling in my closet
Of pity and bloody transistor
Radios.
The best thing about our legitimate
Danger, is that it frees me from
A fear of death.
Because after we’re over, I’ll be
After I die, the young,
Corrupt taxidermist says I’ll be okay.
You laugh maniacally as you
Shoot up with my self-loathing
And the tromp l’oeil that is the
Violent Waste Land of my heart.
(Source: yeahiwasintheshit)
Syntactical Amnesia
Your papermate bled
Into vast seas of silence
Shining with the salient
Tears of tomorrow
Tracing the whispers
Of a dead art
So transcendent of beauty
Epiphany of ink
Fictions
A new disease
Reciprocates the great
And saving lie
A conversational collage
Of black on white
Precipitating woes
Abandoned at night
Phantom dreams grow
Faded into twilight
Our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.
Originality is nothing but judicious imitation.
Voltaire (via thefoxbones)
My thoughts exactly
Just found a note I wrote to myself awhile ago…
Dear Sarah,
I know you’re not doing too well right now. But you’re hanging in there, stay strong. Just put yourself out there once in awhile. Meet new people and live life to the fullest. Have new experiences and keep moving forward. Never look back.
Love,
Tomorrow (feedback appreciated:)
Intoxicated with
Seraphine drugs,
Butterflies renounce
Their dreams
In favor of
A bleaker tomorrow
Delusions of grandeur,
An affliction known
Only to those
Inebriate of
Grenadine wishes
And sapphire ambitions
Divine valves
Of attention
Shut by
Delirious vision
Extraordinary meaning
Entitled to perish
With gossamer
Immortality
Alone
Infinitely lessening
Velvet curtain of deception covers the truth
Insecurity peaks at a moment of weakness
But you’re never gone
Corners of my mind
Hide conscious thoughts
I must cover for sanity
Memories of what was
And what never will be
Replaced by a superior model
Of the same happy emotions
Therein lies the root of
My greatest fears
Scripted
I feel as though I am but an actor on the stage, in this great plot which once again reminds us that life is but a scenario. How we fill in the cliches is not entirely up to us, for our parts have already been scripted. How does one find meaning in a world which is so uncertain to us, yet so predestined in the grand scheme of the universe? Is hope, or all emotion for that matter, an existential fallacy? I wish for nothing but control over my destiny, for happiness has no meaning.
Meet Market
Gaze quickly leaping,
Surveying
A lion in a
Herd of gazelles
Scouting out the
Next target
Preying on unsuspecting
Passerby
Meet and greet
A wine tasting,
Sampling each
Prospect
Changing lenses,
Zooming in
Survival of
The courageous
