Sweet

History

you haunt every memory

you haunt all of my thoughts

you tear each and every page of our story

and leave me in the dark

-s's.

you should know by now what a liar i can be, with two fingers crossed and whispering to you goodnight and sweet dreams, while i resist sleep in favor of picturing what tomorrow's abrupt entrance may bring—

what strength the dusty wind will blow with, what color of light the radiant sun will shine, what striking songs the birds will choose to sing,

or whether this heaviness will still weigh my life's sins on my heart and my mind,

and, maybe, what words from you will greet, from behind a waking veil, these still-sleepy morn eyes;

as I’ve seen you last

driving into the milky way

with high hopes of calmer place

As I’ve seen you last

staring down the world into oblivion

city inside a city

eyes within eyes

dream of a dream

-s’s.

Why don’t we just set off? nothing we do will be enough.

if you ever were the real deal

Then I would have known it by now 

Your nightmare, it will haunt

Never seemed like me, never indeed 

one lifeless dream, one breath ceased, empty

do I look like summer to you?

do I look like something to prove?

I don’t look like summer anymore

I fell,

you score

-s’s.

She is a glowing beauty, pink glass petals crack and refract aspects of different potentialities, an endless intermingling of what if realities reflected in a shimmering crystal flower in a jar in a fairytale that I tell myself.

-2023

life, a big black hole

got me leaning in, in some way

I don’t recall anyone on the horizon

I’m all alone, it’s sucking me in

Sucking into the time hole, again

Nobody I know, Nobody I will

-s’s.

you have chosen the path that I don’t understand

The path that I don’t understand

is the path held onto like crutches, you use when you wander through your world

adjust yourself successfully and call your new friends

Maybe it’s all an ego acid trip for me that I dreamt up, an ice cold witch brew breathed into

I always imagine up everything beloved

whatever trace you want to leave behind is made up from the little things you do

Drink

from the poison bottle

sink

deeper into darkened depth

porcelain faucet

well kept kitchen

soft stench

portrait

baby smile

I can't see your art, I don't know what beauty beneath eyes like yours could be, what it looks like, how you’ll love, what you’ll know, why I should follow you home -s’s.