Ship wrecked

If my insides could match my outsides

I would look a lot like an oil spill.

clouded with dark patches,

glimmering red in the sun.

I wish I could be serious with myself.

But I am an immediate joke.

I set myself up every time.

it's so easy to kill yourself.

when you hardly know yourself.

it's a lot like committing murder

with zero chance of consequence.

there is a blossoming,

and a wilting.

But me?

I have discovered the beauty of sleep.

Here goes me

There is a carnivorous blossom

within the lions view of my rib cage.

It dwells inside.

I find myself feeding it,

just to die.

Harvest

There was a point

when harvesting your moonlight

was my midnight goal.

I can see your face,

3 minutes from my own

and the only harvesting I want to do

is myself.

and leave.

Tick tock

He'd sell me out in a second.

If it meant seeing me naked,

if it meant me not making a sound.

He's just like the hands on the clock

touching numerous things.

reminding me

time takes it's precious time,

And won't be swayed by any warp.

the minutes, the minutes.

He'd sell me out in a second,

if it meant seeing his name etched across my breast.

Angler like depression

I am at the edge of darkness,
praying for an angler like light
to guide me through the cavernous cracks of earth.
Preying on the words
I can see you've clearly sketched
across the purple granite.
Watching your wrists twist and crack
in concerning patterns,
gliding and slipping
into an electrical current
you call a habit.
I am watching you
illustrate the illusions
of life onto a solved,
scientific surface.
and what an untameable force
this frustration has become.

Windows

The windows got a bit foggy
when I started to shout out
all the imperfections
my little eye could spy.

I know

I think it's best

I just hold my breath

and wait for the sunrise.