Wishing to get clean
Once again,
I stand in the shower—
Looking at
Countless droplets
Sliding down
My wax-like skin ,
I wondered
Would they really,
Grazing swiftly past,
With them carry
My Filth away?
Wishing to Rewind
Back to the Swell Ways,
Yet all I want
Is to Forget;
Craving to be Saved,
But I know Sunshine
Is
Days
Away.
The deep sorrows of
The truly good
Rarely show—
Except when they are
Helplessly unveiled
In the mute
Solemn,
And elusive grimace
Of the Angel.
Oh Yes,
We surely have spent
This Daylight
Thinking of
And preparing for
The new Dawn—
All the Grit
And hardy Sweat
Expended
Rebelling against
The Eternal Doubt of
No Tomorrow.
Away from home,
This Year
Ahead of time,
I caught a glimpse
Of the Red and Yellow
Fall—
So that upon
My return,
She had not yet
Arrived.
Knowing that She
Eventually would come,
I ceased to anticipate,
For I had seen it all.
But
She never appeared
Back in town,
As when She took me
By surprise,
I didn’t recognize Her
At all.
She would make Her stay,
Just like the year before,
But She was not
What I saw
Anymore.
Inescapable lures;
Deflated mornings.
I’m afraid
That I shall never break free,
Uncuffed from crippling yearning,
Emancipated from the cage of
Forever falling.
Innocence besmirched
By those who criminalize,
Prosecute and Villainize
The conjured up,
Perverted me.
Condemning
In blind contempt,
They know not
That I am Purity,
Too bright,
Too shrouded
For them to face
And realize.
We live in
A Lonely,
Loney
World.
We rarely
Pay Attention
To One
Another—
The times
We do,
We expect
Thrills,
Something-Something
Brief,
Something-Something
Inducing
High
Stimulus—
No room
For elaborate
Words,
Regardless of
However
Genuine
They might be
In their
Intents.
We only
Care
To See
The fragments—
Fragments like this,
Not tiring,
No sacrifices
Made—
Dry,
and
Convenient.
A Friend and I
Like to,
Every so often,
Crawl our way out
During vacant nights—
Plunging ourselves into
Places
Where we would hide.
Cloaked under loud music
And dim lights,
We play wolves
Who never tire—
Gorging on skin beautified,
Flesh tenderized,
All by the forgetful
Darkness
That brings
Temporary delight.
Brown tiles and tanned walls—
Seats and sculptures in shades of gray—
The institution sits
On heavy, concrete bricks.
Full of rigid corners and
Filtrate air—
That which so asphyxiates,
The institutions build
Big, burial grounds
Over Intellects.
Particular Moments 