Short Decadently Poems

I am violent
speaking over peace.

I help those who love me
weep
as joy grows too remotely possible.

I am always angry without cause
for love.

I lie
when truth feels too vulnerable,
intimate.

I kill inconvenient life
to decompose decadently apathetic death.

I evil in ecological despair
rather than healthy live 
with more curious polycultural faith....

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Waking up at 3am
Yearning a touch
Soft and kind and oh so right
Still dark
Dark obsidian dust
Sparkling in the dark
Feels like a dream
But remembers
The hands held
His scent
Faintly lingering
In the smoke of 
Burning cigarettes
How decadently
Oh so sweet
That Post song
Still playing
In my head
Both singing the words
Everything
Oh so natural
It wasn't just
A spark
It was more
It was
The warm cozy fire
Burning over the logs
I knew I was
Finally home
At last...

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