Max Meunier

it was as it is for now do i at last attend the solemn starts of truth in ruin whose end was nigh and still foregone abscond then with the spoils of my mortal bondage and let me age not one more day image credit: František Skála

I self-deprecate to the point of negation across all dimensions beyond space and time deferring to other’s desired projections toward futile endeavors I am not inclined for I am entwined in objective analysis however circuitous though it may be endlessly fraught with a self-wrought paralysis in the morass of vast obliquities forever beholden to untold afflictions depicting the…

how sorrowful that i have not the hand to spurn this rent asylum wrested by what fate awaits me of its own accord

plunged into the great abandon trauma bound in ways unwinding waiting where her absence found me placid walls pitched lucid squander precedents yet linger onward solace whispered wistful plunder suns, surrendered moons, shone monstrous shifting umbral e’er i pondered nonetheless i loved you always

burden of her own existence wrought between ends isolated martyrs tamed at shames known altar thoughts in kind requite swore not shed as lash from earth to ether stranded at her muted grasp

if all but one breath could depart the wested will would burden none beneath the prose of fluent sun and restive breast since tamed invalid in this sanity I squandered slowly on the arrow’s edge ’til sorrow overcame my fondness whence such forbidden thoughts did stray

winter and I wish for nothing wading through the windows fragment stranded on the rigid edge through the stoic’s desperate prism flailing at the frigid words that struck the essence of her absence weeping at the widow’s ledge where i lept i lept i lept

prospective to endure another year of endless conscious err siphon every value dearest indolent for i alone

a fever dream perperuant of fervid flight unearthed. enshrined. thine ever-looming unavailing vortices through time, though fragile squander even death’s decay in verses of mine own aver e’er wrought on planes of sole implicit

the hours arouse disillusion bedraped upon fraughted remorse fretful meander propels its pulse onward exacting a will fit for none with fury unfurling and blusterous breast the “worst” would conspire amid chaos so tireless did prove as a victor unwitting then felled by a fire resolute

as sorrow sows its seed anew I reap its savage wander again a grievance rends me unaware and spares me not its grave

afar from my grasp was a wisdom unsound to have held all and nothing at once and how I would wince as its tinsel unwound wearing wounds she has yet to repent

son of a…

as the son of a sadist

unsworn servitude has withered my will

and left me to brood

for sorrow is certain

through self-sabotage

existence a sentence of sordid mirage

the endless hour unravels

we writhe under the moor

as earth arrives unsung in reverie

fateless, evermore

at once the sun had risen

through sanity’s remorse

our faces worn

amidst the arbors

lost within god’s door

when i cannot quell this chaos

kittens call to calm my nerves

droves of prismed clouds pileus

gather in the distant stir

auric airs of heirs ailuruc

stirring purrs on beds of fur

fucking hell i love my kittens

foremost i doth e’er aver

curse this whole contrivance where our pen perverts our thoughts bastardizing our expression into ostentatious dross

which, indeed, is most ironic even now, i must abide by the terms of its imposing despite how it makes me writhe

were it only that i could resist the pretense of the mind set upon me with insistence i am loathe not to comply

for the state of my affliction disallows for deviation fro…

such finite truths shall yet unfurl

as we await

unwitting.

the tragedy of days, unending

the trill of earth afoot.

how tender is the untrained eye

which falls upon the burdened hallow

writhing in its sense of self

to leave this place no more.

allow these failinga

fear no loss

for freedom bears no will

i trust.

in tenses past

imploring, e’er

with sovereignty forsworn