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Literature Text
He says
the secret is the almond
in your brain
you should listen when it screams
to run away
the secret is the almond
in your brain
you should listen when it screams
to run away
there is nothing
in your ribcage
but
one half of a clichè.
So
if I'm made
of bones and chemicals,
cold calculus, or
simple rationality
if I'm made
of bones and chemicals,
cold calculus, or
simple rationality
man of science
tell me why
I cannot
think away the pain.
Do not be ridiculous,
love was just dark chocolate,
your pain
another cup
of rancid coffee.
Literature
Nothing Pure Shall Fade
Sunshine forever falls
despite night's misty shawl.
Sweet-springs that constant drain
are filled with summer's rain.
And flowers, blooms subdued
from winter's frigid mood,
in spring are quick remade.
Nothing pure shall fade.
Literature
denouement
misery only likes me naked
when the lights are off.
Literature
virid escent nostomania
i like my skies firstly blue
powdered antique azure;
like the dusky aged dust on chalkhill moth's-wings in attics,
the ones that-
flutter at sundown beneath the pins behind the yellow glass
i like my skies secondly green
cocksuring capriciously teal;
like the rusty old paint on beat-up millionnaires sardine-tins,
the ones that-
heat at sundown in the warm red dirt in fields of yellow grass
i like my skies thirdly red
relentlessly pumping peach;
like the scar shins on southern
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Comments30
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I love the second-to-last stanza. Wouldn't it be nice to just will away the pain?