Reeking piles of doggerel

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What they will do

They will smile at you
their mouths moulded into
benevolence, their eyes with
pity and falseness. You think
after all this time you have
been granted some kind of
immunity, but you haven’t.
they crucify you when you
turn your back.


I’m sorry to tell you
I’m afraid I missed
the last goodbye
or open mouthed kiss.

I am afraid I wanted
You to be right
surrender accountability
without a fight.

I’m afraid that I wanted
me to be more
Let’s start at the beginning
I’ve been there before

Wayward angels

Clouds alight with wildfire.
I stand on my cliff,
still breathing heavily
and dewy-misty.
Lightning of my own crackling
through fast twitch muscles.
Infinity in the blink of an eye,
exploding over the horizon.
Lighting the clouds from above
silhouetting wayward angels.

Lone grave

I would have drowned
if only you asked;
To have succumbed to you;
and gasped my last
breath of dangerous scented air
to have fallen without care.
A flash of a blade
and crimson wrists;
Bloodflowers bloom
and die unkissed.
Beneath desert sands
those seeds still lie.
I weathered the storm.
I did not die.


I relinquished control
when first
I discovered
and rhyme
pulsing within.
Touch me.
You will feel it:
Our unique

Oh this vibrancy
that threatens to
sweep me

the undertow.