canislupusaeterna

I walk this world with no weapon visible I speak a language nearly incomprehensible I whisper to the wind and summon nothing My path is a lonely trek into the vacuum Eyes should hold memories But mine reflect the Void Hands should show some sympathy But I've used all of mine Up A few centuries back And the funniest part of all of this Is my beating heart attack On the heart of obsidian blue Pulminary Artery One last Moment of archery At the apple of my throat I gasp And grasp As the sun fades without a sound.

Behold the seas of azure Dry as the Tranquility The white of eyes caught in flaring Headlights As another deer steps in front of my Nocturnal exploration I'm Seeking from isolation That rare daisy That grows solitary Impossible In the center of desolation No water No Perspiration Wishing for average citizenship Sometimes Other times Grateful for the freedom to Weather and wear anything Everything Nothing at all That The tranquility is windswept Sun soaked Brittle as eggshells Left out long past hatching 2 am and the phone refuses to ring 3am and the wires and weeds and pipe The lighter the lighter The less the tomb. Sometimes aches are f

She isn't whole without a cigarette and she is Empty without booze Hands made of delicate graphite not Diamond Are easily bruised. She's got purple and dull green On her skin From  to an unknown place Because everything is black When she passes out But her skin is still pale. And when the world around her keeps moving Its seldom gentle But it's there Battering against her comatose frame She's sewn in scalpels and razor blades To the flesh of her arms Tattooed dragon scales on her inner thighs But perfect as her destruction may already be She seeks Better ways To permanently disappear

There are no shortcuts There are no secret sentences There are no heightened summits There is no freedom from drowning in sorrow There are simply. Storms. That let forth the flood Or impenetrable shields From within which The soul Drowns Slice open the skull like an orange Crawl forth into the downpour Let the salt water purify Away the infection Like personal stigmata Self inflicted Or from being swept against Those horrible walls Break open that barrier And swim along with the riptide Let it carry you far Until. It subsides.

There she is turning her face from the camera Just a moment before the shutter Shudders But resists the urgent pressure from Thought She manages to angle away Angels she prays But angelic prey she is instead of answered prayers She is answers to the ravenous madness Of the Holy Host The Holy Ghost Has scissors for trimming perfect nooses that would make a hangman cry I spell this out To live. A day To die or shout There is no. Why There is only do. As I As she The automated self-indulgent crushed among divine cigarettes She is the year for drinking beer And toasting the apocalypse But come. And go The angels know that when the dog is

He had grown up under the assumption That death was but one option Taxes were filed As tradition would dictate But the frailty of the body Seemed preposterous Seemed rude to suggestions Yet there are a finite number of words A limitation to the velocity Of global rotation And he wandered from town To city To vacant lot Watching souls Listening to quiet thought But like Jack of the Lantern his only path Was unlit Till he constructed a light source And then At midnight Cut open his palm to bleed But no blood would emerge Instead sand was the surprise That spilled from. The desert of his limbs As lymph awaited circulation. And the plasma fr