Wild With Mushrooms
spiders slick so
slippery master the
sorts of sane. me; this
tree draped over me,
i can taste vulgarity
like dust cracking the
air. move back, away,
all touch is a tickle-
i can't manifest what
could happen during
this test. poetry is under
construction, slandered
by mathematics,
nails skating down
chalkboard. eyeballs
proceed the expression;
daylight comes accidently
fervently molesting minds
pushing words like time
into corners. degraded
children come forth like
breaths from a neck
wrung taut- is it
wrong for me, the end
i can see, the colors have
malfunctioned entirely,
red red red my laughter
is your suffering, all
fed, everyone's dead. why
cry when we can
just continue abbreviating
instants with inconsistence
? what is euphoria when focus
is forgotten? why would
stopping follow starting when
infinity has swallowed me?
pupils of eyes lie back & accept
these blatant facks, who are
you to steal me from i?
i liked to watch you
from afar from distances
star to star, cry on my tears
& listen to them sizzle & fall
apart. silence is victimized,
the noise of reaching languages
prodding any sort of meaning
or movement. sit back
down, repent repent, leave
time well spent out in the
rain & trickle dripdrops
runaway train. narrators are
rejects of humanity, evil desires
fueling the story, premonition-
so gory.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
