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hearing birds in the sky, blue and desolate.
extend your reach to the hills, upon the grass and dirt, to feel nature's gift.
it reminds me of your soul, a wildflower painted and confined to a frame
in which i can view your calmity, a part of the hillside that reflects the sun.
a tree settles to the surrounding sand with the wind; reminiscent of the spiritual
serenity that surrounds your ears.
i could lay claims of masculinity in a whisper, take the skin off your nose,
but you are a seasonal beast which lays in hope of ascension.
starving, hysterical insomnia, dressed in intrusion of thought;
sometimes i phrase words weirdly
in a portrait of calloused emotions
but the colours leave me hung.
with your palette of prophets juxtaposed between speeches, leaving bones frail
and dressed in opression.
your truth is distorted, blinded by the punches in which disconnects you from this plane.
placed a hand on the riverbed and became enraptured by it's flow,
a chimerical look into what my future entails. just days moving sluggishly
desiring a more abrupt fashion. days i have spent pondering, an impetus for change.
kindred spirit of gregor samsa, empathetic to the cycle of trying to adapt everyday
and fighting change, unaware of the distrusting glare loved ones place.
if your body is ugly, but your soul remarks beauty then they will not take heed.
dragging my metaphorical conscience through mud, flower up my memory and
display my brain as simply a sum of parts
for i can not dowse myself into expression any longer.
though another form has engulfed me, appearance stands still, so what has changed?
a lifetime of taking breaths is all i've amounted to,
adjusting my trousers to the same part of my waistline everyday.
counterculture immunity,
a pool of mediocrity hinders my swim.
but alas approaches the creeping of the subterranean that pales,
pouting "ignorance is bliss"
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