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Stockholm for wrinkled bed sheets

This beautiful cage

-

- afternoon delight / a haiku

( I hope it haunts )

is home away from home, we

sow oats in chaos

|

- invade to Evade / a haiku

( i hope it haunts )

spilled ink that draws a map

I left some of me behind, my love

so if lost, you’d find the way back

and all the rest of me that’s left,

where you go, it goes too

My blood no longer runs through veins

My blood 

                                   runs 

                                                                  after 

                                                                                                 you

-

- R e d . . B r i c k . . R o a d  /

( I hope it haunts ) 

without it costing me my life

It seduces me “ how bad do you want it? ”

just to see if my soul has a price

I resent that I can’t attend my funeral

the only party they’ll ever throw me

It mocks me “ you’re missing out! they’re all here! so, Hell must be lonely ”

-

- F.O.M.O. /

( I hope it haunts ) 

- Me n/ some random thought that begs to be written

that falling in love

would feel like finding religion

but 

if God is dead

what am I falling for?

-

-  Jerimiah 27:10 /

( I hope it haunts )

I’d name my lover “little birdie”

for proving birds don’t sing, but shriek

when its too late and too early

for bird calls warning “dawn...again”

as I consider sleep or mind reeling 

for every time a little birdie told me “Fuck that, once more with feeling!”

                  < V >

      < V >

                                               < V >

-

-  F o w l  / 

( I hope it haunts )

. . .what then?

will the stars align?

will the universe bend?

Would that be a manifest?

the creation of the cure?

Could it be that’s all it took,

The truth and nothing more?

_

Or. . . if I admit I’m lonely

would that fan the flames?

will loneliness feel welcomed

to be called on by its name?

Won’t it find its place inside me

and make that place its home?

Doesn’t it know of itself

it’s much more than being alone?

_

Or. . . if I admit I’m lonely

Would I come to know my self?

Take the long road in and under

when left with nothing else?

Could I free fall down that rabbit hole

pushed gently by admission?

Will it give me peace to find 

my conscience..

my contrition. . .? 

-

- Waheed  / وحيد

( I hope it haunts )

i : Dirt

ii : Flesh

iii : Fire

White noise hiding dark matter

Just a bit of chatter

To make your mind shatter

-

-    w h i s p e r   /

(I hope it haunts)

This dazzling performance

These wonders never cease

I welcome your madness

and with wicked magic

Take your chaos and make peace

-

It is your gift.

It is my curse

I have a talent

I have a thirst

-

sweep up all the damage you’ve done

collect the ruins made of my heart

these cutting edges , one by one

this shattered glass that once glittered

but no longer catch your light

still sing a song that says your name 

clinking sharp and bright

and when out of roses to perfume your steps

and make your path smell sweet

I’ll sprinkle before you my broken heart

a new chance to lay myself at your feet

-

-

- Mosaic  /

(I hope it haunts)

The waters have risen to critical levels

And are rushing upward still

What was once drought

Is 

    now 

           drowning

I tear open old wounds

Desperate to release the pressure

and Unleashed, the flood rages

      furious

 and          wild

 Another natural disaster

Some act of God

I wade in it’s wake, gone still and 

d

e

e

p

   I give in to the current . . . .

                                           . . .I get  carried  a w a y . . . .

- Rolling Boil /

(I hope it haunts)

the waters have risen to critical levels

and are rushing upward still

I tear open old wounds to relieve the pressure

Free the flood, unleashing its fury

Another natural disaster. Some act of God.

Now unburdened, 

     I give in to the current . . .

                                   . . . I   get   carried    away . . . .

-

- Rolling Boil /

And I pray to God it hurts

No, You didn't break me first

But you perpetuate this curse

You rode shotgun in my hearse

Covered me in flowers and dirt

Looked me right in my eyes,

And kissed me goodbye

You terrible fucking flirt

- Grim /

( I hope it haunts )