As hedonists dally
to never explain
The greatest pleasure
— the absence of pain
(Dreamsleep: December, 2024)
Words are cures and killers.
Each flick of tongue or wrist, there lies a decision,
Twin pillars:
Heal and maim.
Will you build new dawns or prisons?
Self-same
You, them:
Applied visions,
Prey?
Words are cures and killers
Will you build new dawns or prisons?
Pray?
Ease after torment
delight for a time
Pain as a stranger
more fondly in mind
Absence entrancing
when courting a knave
Sweetest the silence
—where screams did pervade
(Las Vegas: July, 2022)
I come back to these scribbles
jotted down in broken verse
of when I felt.
When my body burned with passion and rage
when my loins ached or my heart broke.
Revisiting the epoch of life
trying to re-assemble the shape of those energies.
Yet I am still numb.
Apathetic and drifting on analgesia
the medicine my hysterias sought.
Humanity leached into distance and fugue.
Desensitized to the state of existence.
I cease to be me.