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 Aug 2019
Graff1980
Star crossed
space inferno
flashes fast
out in eternity
emitting strange waves
of energy
that illuminate
spiraling galaxies
and gaseous bodies
of swirling vapor.

Vapors that hurl particles
past possible
dark matter.

Undefined energy
that matters not
because I can still see
enough to appreciate
the stars we’ve got
and the ones
that were lost
before their light
ever reached me.
 Aug 2019
Graff1980
It is
a sweet sweltering
summer ‘s eve
that culminates
in a late
cooling breeze,

followed by
blinking bug **** lights
that dance
across a
dark blue canvass.

Flickering forms
almost as familiar
as the twinkling stars
are followed by
the sound of
castanets clacking
and patrons laughing
whilst a lovely
black haired beauty
who is dressed ornately
twists and bends
her torso and limbs
with feline grace
and the eloquence
of the wind.

Deep smiles
and curious grins
follow her movements
to stunned silence.

Bare midriff
exposes a perfect
belly button
and abs
as her silk scarves
carve
the night
like desire’s knife.

The music ends
leaving men
quivering
and staring
ravenously,
hungering
for her
hard body,
but suffering
the sweet ache
of desire denied
as she exits
at her own pleasure.
 Aug 2019
Graff1980
All that he wants is a sign,
saying that he’s headed
in the right direction.

Instead, what he finds
is a cold ghost town
waiting for his inspection.

He is in a hurry
with no clue why
rolling heavy footed
down a highway
fifty-five.

All he really
wants to know
is that there is
something perfect
past his bookish
existence.

Hand in a holey pocket
searching for a broken locket
knowing that he lost it
and there is no way to be
forgiven for this stupidity.

Other people may learn
but he is driven to
run too many risks.

Till, the car twists
tumbles, hits solid bricks,
and he never wakes up,
cause he missed
the caution signs
saying slow down.
at wintertime.
 Aug 2019
Graff1980
Sometimes,
a wish is not a dream.

It is a hope
that you will be seen
by the love
who haunts
the strange hallways
of your heart’s
maze like affection.

It is an M.C. Escher distortion
all upside down and sideways
or the middle part of a movie
with no reference to the presence
of any minutes before
and no end to come
cause it is paused before
the hero reaches the door
to save whoever
they were searching for.

Sometimes a dream
is not a wish
just an echo
of something
bittersweet
that you will miss.

Until, time takes
the potency of it
and replaces it with
pale nostalgia.

Sometimes,
I would exchange
all of this
for a moment
as brief as a kiss
just to hold you
and comfort both of us.
 Aug 2019
Lucid
"She says, 'It's only in my head.'
She says, 'Shh, I know it's only in my head."

I was baptized when I was four years old
except it didn't turn out like most baptisms do.
It was a backwards baptism,
my childish innocence was left floating in the bath water like dead skin
and I stepped out bathed in sin.
Reborn in sin.
Seeds of sin
planted into my growing body
by the man with the face like Jesus.
"**** on it like a lollipop", he said
trying to appeal to the childish innocence
that he unknowingly stole
just moments before.

I did as he said
obedient child that I was.
I didn't know the difference then
like I do now
but the difference doesn't even matter anymore.
When you plant corrupted seeds
you grow a corrupted tree.

Now I wake up with blood under my fingernails
from trying to shed the hate
branded into my skin.
Now I'm constantly fighting a civil war
between the devil and god
raging inside of me.
Now I feel guilty for who I have become
because I never knew how innocence felt.
Now my poisoned mind only knows to yield
to the sinful whispers
that float inside my head
whenever I close my eyes.

I may have lost my innocence
but I guess
I didn't lose my obedience.

"But the ******* the car in the parking lot
says, 'Man, you should try to take a shot.
Can't you see my walls are crumbling?'
Then she looks up at the building
says she's thinking of jumping
says she's tired of life.
She must be tired of something."
We talk just like lions
but we sacrifice like lambs
'Round here
she's slipping through my hands
 Aug 2019
Lucid
everyone has that place their mind wanders to whenever boredom strikes, or whenever they become "zoned out"
mine?
my mind always imagines a ballerina in black, doing pirouette turns over and over again
it's especially vivid whenever i'm listening to music
over and over, round and round
i only realized this today, & it made me wonder why my mind always drifted there
i thought about it until i realized
how fitting
my conscious mind is always turning in circles
so of course my subconscious mind would, too

his hands on my body
the reeking smell of alcohol and coercion
my mother's lies
my brother's handshake with the grim reaper
the realization
the humiliation
the first time i told her i hated her
the sting of her palm against my face
my father's alcohol problem
i can't escape alcohol
my alcohol problem
the feel of the blade against my skin
the sterile smell of the crisis unit
everyone's willingness to condemn & forget

i don't forget

my body
his breath
her lies
death
humilation
the sting
the alcohol
the blood
the sterility
the pain
the pain
the pain

over and over, round and round
turning constant circles in my head
i fall down
With You - stwo
 Jul 2019
Graff1980
It waits and baits us
with fear and pain
spraining our already
sore souls
and struggling brains.

The dark eclipse
that does not miss
this foolish *******.

Where more time
is spent in
then we had existing.

It leaves us hollow,
a brand that burns
our throats with sorrow
cause that brass fact
is hard to swallow.

It does not give
a single whiff
if we try to deny it,
and there is no way
to bribe it.

It cares not for
the quality of our character
that maybe
reflected in
our charity
directed towards
our human kin.

But without life
it cannot exist,
this deeply distasteful
state of nothingness.
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