At The End of My Rope

Brown bodies in bloody boxes
Burn for enlightenment.
The Phoenix cries for Kanye,
The children cry for daddies
Robbed of them by cowards in critical condition.
There are chains on the ankles of the
Procreation of miseducation and almighty God.
Their wings were sold on sale,
Targets drawn on them in permanent marker.
The innocence of the young and curious takes another existence
And Geppettos plead sentient in the shoes of their off-beat ancestors.
9-27-17

In Praise of All

As my body melts away,

I am left only with

The faint sound

Of a heartbeat,

The only expression

Of human emotion in this

Godly state.

My self-expression

Lies in the collective

Golden energy of

All entities,

Earthly and outer-worldly.

 

I am allowed as much as

I am able to comprehend,

And with each ascension

I am to sacrifice another

Something or some-body

I once held close.

I am on a journey

To the end of existence.

With love as my guide and my master,

I learn that I have been and will

Always be perfection.

I give my tears, my fears and my

Gratituity for all that is within me

To the most high,

I and I.

9-12-17

Staring Out The Window

Summer heat in my stare,

Staining my panties with possession.

Who can I call to

Keep me company?

Last summer’s lover.

Breeding & hoarding

Memories to

Comfort my winter.

Like a blanket on rainy days,

And I giggle when I think

Of the look on his face.

He needed me too.

Marking my spot is my gift

To humanity.

Pleasure as a profession…

Looking for a professor,

And a profession.

I’m looking for another side

To the story,

But I hold my pride in my own arms again.

9-7-17

Instagtam:Β Kitara

Fearless Am I

I’ve been sleeping with doors and windows open,
Hearing the warm wind
Speak to me.
I enjoy late night conversations.
I sprawl on my bed,
Naked and needy,
Taking ownership of anything I can,
Turning my crowded room
Into a palace.
I say
“Goodnight king.”
When I close my eyes
I see lightbeings,
I see interactions
With childhood friends
And re-member the pieces
Of awkward moments.
Of eternal words and actions
Of relationships built on
Expectations.
I think
“You’ve made it, king.”
I smile and look outside.
It’s dark,
I’m safe.
I hug myself and float away,
Held by a chain,
Attempting comfort in an
Unending, underground
Existence of shadow-selves
And plastic faces.

9-6-17