I am certain of nothing yet the
Paragraph consoles this melted
White page. The whore of it's
Attempted lines debauch
Our Visionless viens.
I burned his sleep before and
He buried my afterlife alter;
I prayed that I could ink
You on my skins.
It's dark and I am contemptible
Amongst their summits' illusion.
Deflated Gaurds manifested
Into our hopless opaque
Skies. I am period. I am end. I
Have no say no word no poem.
Just empty filled heartbeats
Grey'd onto your freedom.
Freedom inside your new
blown ink and each time your
empty push cries the Poison Tears
tattoos my raw. I see you clear
And Opaque plagues my shower
But I can close my eyes and love
You closer to my Body's aches.
you are my impulse breast
there is no where to go
underneath your Sky.
I will rage against your fist
and move with your long trees;
we are nature's first move
into each others Lakeroad eyes.
become my tender bait and I
will show you which bricks
I built a you out of.
