Why do all the greatest ideas arise after illegal consumption. Why does fate always suggest such a temptation. 

It’s exhausting the provided short lived excitement. Aiming to throw our reality of its alignment. 

Time starts to have no logical meaning. it starts to no longer seem to exist. The struggle is a twisted game you fail to resist.

It’s unnatural what my body is now ...

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My something is nothing, as something is nothing when measured against the grand scheme of things,
A massive reward, the highest achievement, no more something than a spec in the wind

A name to a prize, a face to a name, a name prize and face that were nothing the same, these nothings are nothing, but something to something, and therefore the nothing has value again

My nothing is something,...

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I still can't believe

That its came to be

You were my soulmate

It was supposed to be fate

Thought I was at heaven's gate

But wait!

You came disguised

I couldn't see past your deceit and lies

You took me on a ride

Caught me by surprise

Said all the right things

Didn't even need any diamond rings

Put me in a daze

Got me lost in the maze

Til all I could see i...

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How much is she really worth?

Her beauty is gift and a curse.

A gift to me.

A curse to her. 

Not really knowing why I want her.

Thinking my mind is stuck on lust.

But my mind is the opposite.

Her face is beautiful and her mind is equivalent.

She leaves a mystery after we talk.

Got me wanting to know more.

Exploring her mind besides her pants.

I can't stop over thin...

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riddle me this fatman

I must not grieve my silences
while choosing not to breathe lies into them

yet because you feel you are owed a poem
my education, which has only been borrowed,
must make the arguments promised of a bullet
more compelling than Neruda could even know

linked through bitterness, to
deluge the starving with the busy
decorum of disastrous diligence
you may, if ...

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quietly, quietly sat a lie
arms outstretched
palms staked to the fierce eye
observing within
as, first, flesh mottles
closer still to see without
while blister
vermilion doubts
one apiece of each
seized mortal engine
dripped of framed wax
placed in a filleted whole
gas pored
for a hungry earth
this is all I wish today
let each word die in a dusty throat
a melt th...

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