The choking vines of the wine yard,
Wrap around the souls of the somber.
Staring off into space,
While a chemical feeling seals their fate.

Do they feel happy yet?
Something more than the happiness they lost,
Was it right, to push love away?

In replacement they have a craving,
A welcomed feeling of demanding.
Their kisses curdle into bites,
Ripping chunks out of who they love,
Tearing holes into their head.

Her skin is wrapped in Henna,
Beautiful brown ink,
Sketches cover her thighs.

Little golden vines wrap around her fingers,
Intertwined with the bare white of mine,
She's a work of art, such a beautiful painting,
I trace each line of the brush.

Bleed me like the root
that burns sins away.

Find me green with envy
along the Mica veins.

Sermons over tiny crescents,
Jack-in-the-pulpit given.

Ghostpipe smoking
with incense risen.

-

Fern's red flower.
Trumpets, devil played.

Creeping by the hour,
Periwinkle's struggle inlaid.

Spirals, the vine choking,
Birch witnessed it all.

An elongated anticipation
before the king snake's fall.

is my wish what i really want?
are your kisses really that soft or are my memories unreliable
all this time i was unviable but now the tides changed
if the overcast can fade then so can the return of the grey
my impressionable mind molded by stoic time
the inescapable vines consume my innate drive

I grew into you like vines, delicately covering a brutalist form with a love I only know. My heart is submerged in a little ocean, its depth grew in me as I carried the weight upon my soul. The waves painted me blue, reminding me of all my sad lullabies.

Your name is a possession and embodies all that you are (it's the only way to keep you.) If I got the chance to love you, maybe I'd be much more than a supernova, devouring its life until the very end, traversing the boundless space, and it would leave traces in a thousand years; my love for you would still resonate, like the haunting interludes played by a piano in the epilogue of a song.

In this bungalow bathed with mud and leaves
Moss seeps through fissures in the walls
Sprawling vinery rips through paint beneath.
As my headdress rusts on the window sill
I glance to hush its last scorning glares
Hidden in this hammock, outlining my fears.
This sunken land fails evermore
How steady the brick counts its last dusk
How many more days to tend to them?
Old tapestry hanging above untucks,
Undone by the collapsing roof.
Leave me here a bloodied man, squashed by rock.
Limping, gushing, dripping in my demise.

there's something about you
that buries itself in my chest
growing its roots somewhere deep inside
blooming and blossoming
reaching and tangling around my veins
wrapping its vines around my bones
spreading its pollen through my bloodstream with every gentle heartbeat
seeping through my fingers and toes
crawling up my spine and flowering in my thoughts
I carry you everywhere
and as I fall asleep at night,
I think about the way it feels
to have you next to me