the air just arrived from your breath, because at first I inhaled with giddiness
my unexplained thoughts, my wild pulsation meditates on our last embrace
so sure, my spirit danced with nothing left, and couldn’t bare the stillness
no longer in flight, I want to return to the comfort of your arms
your healing touch that I can barely resist surrending too
afraid of letting go, I won’t let myself expect anymore…
Month: November 2010
PsychoKinesis
The mind is undiscovered, just like your lip gloss
leaving a message on my lips, what exactly will happen?
I am yet to discover the true meaning of kinesis.
Thinking about you makes all my hairs stand to attention
I hope you can feel my gentleness as it kidnaps, clings to me
like cosmic static, electricity sparks a harmonized hope
to bring to you, everytime I transmit a message.
De-Con-Des-De-Con-StrUction
Mine, mine, mine, mine
all of this is mine
and I won’t give you an inch
of what is mine even if you cut
yourself building my inch
I want all of it
I want all of you
to build me a dynasty
that won’t crumble
but will kill you as you make it
I’ll subtly dance around your endevours
gracefully I’ll lure you into an infinite lullaby filled with pain and medicine
as you forget your ideas that fleets away, so go to sleep my darling, rest now.
HOROSCOPE
Tripping on Gods that will never cease to be
having them have me, wanting my love
when my condition only drifts like an abandoned
matrice miscommunicating empty bags
dancing aimless on this dancehall
singing: making sure The Nigger is clean.
Daggers
the things we tell our friends
just so they can win our side
even when you know you’re wrong
the secrets we keep from friends
that’s what I’m interested in
but when will the daggers reveal themselves
when will they say to you as you stand delinquent
loitering with too much knowledge and you know it:
when will they say to you all the bad things first
and then I love you after. We cry for an intervention.
Maybe when we’re adult enough to die in truth
Maybe when all the alcohol has ran out, the betting on lives has died
and all that is prohibited is a bitter run home hiding behind masks
since the house that warmed this apathy burns
throbbing with my search for acceptance, throwing it to my face
the ashes of utter disappointment.
Wasted on BMB
Easier for you to rip me out
rip me out, out of history
replace our ghost with
how long it takes a device
to catch my pulse.
You say I’m foolish, uncomplicated
when I saw you crystallized far further than your catalog chatter:
bringing the world up to speed to your gospel.
COCOYEA 