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And simple scenery

Vast and

Unscathed by anything unholy

Innocent

As seedlings are curious for

Sunlight to caress them

And swoon them with soft motherly warmth

I am intoxicated by my own immortal eyes

The rise and fall of the morning

Unreal imagery

Sober and unrequited

I have no quarrels with it

I am light as a feather

And happy not to be staring at the worms

Wet and warm inside

of unreal paradox

Beautiful

My Moon

My woman

My pride

My earth’s turned to ashes

And pale went my sky

The thunder claps back

At my woman’s wounds

Croon croon cries the wizard

Give me all your times of day

There are black masses in the courtyard

Won’t you come on out to play

Ye old squatters and their neighbours

Who find envy in their shiver

I’ll sing you into blight

Pack all my arrows in this quiver.

The rain came on black daffodil and all her wilted petals.

She says she misses the taste of love.

Her eyes all donned in glass they cut the butterflies when she might kiss em.

Baby’s broken

Without her God.

Take my hand oh little flower

And we can walk on down to eden.

Maybe then she’ll see alone she’s better off.

Maybe lust will wrap around her like the arms of my dear devils

Take her in and show her how to dance at dawn.

Swoon for me

Oh specimen of the unkind, my dearest friend.

She rests her head upon her lilac pillow and weeps now for the end.

I weep with her beneath the same moon.

There is nothing shameful about our own decay.

Sad boy, And all your midnight masterpieces. You wear those hands that make me into pudding. The hands that craft such hunger into delicate art. Between squirming and coughing up blood I think about sad boys and having sex with my enemies. I dream about the withering black daffodils and falling into the arroyo head first. Lust bound. There is something Celtic and creamy about death’s obsession with me. How he lurks into the souls of my loved ones and hovers over me with the chill of night. Sad boy, I’m however afraid, there is nothing as attractive about my obsession with you.

You should never have Allowed me to wander into you. For now I dream of being wisped away and fed. Play again with my dark parts and bow to my sins. Paint portraits of my smile in your notebooks full of turmoil. Walk with me into the mouth of madness and allow me to become the insanity that eats me.

You move like a black wave, you perform with an elegant swell. You make me ponder expiration, searching for the silhouette of darkness between the horizon and my own being. Doubt dissipates into power and I am whole.

Sad boy you talk so kindly to my flowers. Your eyes do tell me otherwise, even in moments made of crumbs. I know that you have seen my creatures, and that those visions fail to fade from what’s become. My teeth get sharp when I’m aroused, and I remain with a desire that soothes me to decompose. I live with many voices, putrid and pleasant alike. I am the same daffodil in the garden that hangs over the weeds and weakens into rot. Still I feel nothing but held.

Know now that flowers begin their pursuit of the sun from seedlings, and only death doth take their pulse and give wings of prayer to their halos. Darkness is quite the embrace should we discover the arms of death and the comfort of cold bones. To feel the grip close around our little flower petals, those sweet kitten throats. If only the others could see that what pain is to love, black is to white, Veronica is to Betty.

To all of my sad boys and their desire for my flowers:

I exist with a screaming heap of mischief. As soft as I may appear to you in intimacy, know that I may also cradle my own vanity at your expense. As it is above, so it will appear below.

you are allowed to love only half of who I am. And you are plenty allowed to never even love me at all.

One deep blue ocean devoted

It’s a vine like journey

That plays like a big pipe organ

Ivory bloodbaths and heavy machinery

Flooded with thoughts of a scenery

Grey and morbid and gone

Her scream takes off on the run

A kind of silence he would mourn

Inside the barrel of a gun

And never give a precious thought of mine

For In the grand scheme of confusion

He pretends you two are distant, torn and blue.

I fell in love and I thought it would be magic.

He wants to know what’s on her mind

He asked me the other day

Baby, do you think about me?

All I think about is the sky

Good wine and staying free

But he would take that personally.

Does he think I am girlfriend material?

Am I enough?

Oh what a prize to spend a lifetime wearing his cuffs.

Blood lust

The sex on your TV has bent my mind

He’s robust

The captain wants me now

And I’m inclined.

While we’re collectively depressed

You can spend your money on alchohol and sex

So go ahead and buy my time

But if I’m nothing but some hookup anyways

Then please

Fall out of love with me

If angels are real won’t you leave me with wings?

I don’t want to be that pretty thing.

Won’t you be my executioner?

I’m a rebel on the rise.

Does he know? just what he did to her?

Can he read between the lines?

I don’t want to be some pretty thing

I just want to survive

If angels are real won’t you leave me with wings?

There is freedom there