psycosynthesis
Bluelighter
They are all slightly depressing I guess, I'm not really in this mood anymore which is a good thing. :D
The streets question,
The earth below. Eyebrows raised, as
Skyscrapers straddle them.
Trees forced into, neat perfect rows.
City lights keep the stars hidden
From our eyes. Breath is stolen
By exhaust. Hearts are stolen
By resource.
Our souls are
Stolen.
****
He sits and sips,
Vodka ice cold.
He struggles to remember
All that he has been
Told and forgotten.
Even after solid reiteration,
He still sits in soft
And silent complacence.
Gazing at walls, that
Are taking on forms
Of equal anxiety
And amazment. And
His ceiling storms.
It sighs.
It hails.
It ponders, as he does
Sit, in silence complacence.
In confused amazement.
***
Neon capillaries,
Pumping black ichor.
Her veins, run underneath
My flesh, scarred by bursts
Of bright, of light.
Of liquid illuminated
By the tears that
Encaputure her eyes,
Bright, light.
Wide and frightened,
And comforted by
Arms that don't know
Just where to reach.
Where to embrace,
And when to hate.
***
Your name is still hinted
On my breath. Shuddered
Exhalations, a mist
Forms. Frostbitten lips, blue
And red. Confront this
Storm. Contort this rain.
Compound my doubts, cradle
My head in your hands
And run your fingers through my hair
Again.
Your breath is still
On my cheek.
***
I've begun to read the music that
Glides behind your gestures,
The inherent tone of your skin.
I can sense the notes, hovering
Between your unspoken words.
I want to reach out, to
Feel the rythym woven
Into your hair. Your steps
Pitched to my ear, the
Serene melody of memories
Infused to the solid beating
Resonating throughout.
The streets question,
The earth below. Eyebrows raised, as
Skyscrapers straddle them.
Trees forced into, neat perfect rows.
City lights keep the stars hidden
From our eyes. Breath is stolen
By exhaust. Hearts are stolen
By resource.
Our souls are
Stolen.
****
He sits and sips,
Vodka ice cold.
He struggles to remember
All that he has been
Told and forgotten.
Even after solid reiteration,
He still sits in soft
And silent complacence.
Gazing at walls, that
Are taking on forms
Of equal anxiety
And amazment. And
His ceiling storms.
It sighs.
It hails.
It ponders, as he does
Sit, in silence complacence.
In confused amazement.
***
Neon capillaries,
Pumping black ichor.
Her veins, run underneath
My flesh, scarred by bursts
Of bright, of light.
Of liquid illuminated
By the tears that
Encaputure her eyes,
Bright, light.
Wide and frightened,
And comforted by
Arms that don't know
Just where to reach.
Where to embrace,
And when to hate.
***
Your name is still hinted
On my breath. Shuddered
Exhalations, a mist
Forms. Frostbitten lips, blue
And red. Confront this
Storm. Contort this rain.
Compound my doubts, cradle
My head in your hands
And run your fingers through my hair
Again.
Your breath is still
On my cheek.
***
I've begun to read the music that
Glides behind your gestures,
The inherent tone of your skin.
I can sense the notes, hovering
Between your unspoken words.
I want to reach out, to
Feel the rythym woven
Into your hair. Your steps
Pitched to my ear, the
Serene melody of memories
Infused to the solid beating
Resonating throughout.
