meowmeowkitty123

I’d like to congratulate the people with their heels in the dirt and sweat on their brows and the heart to unearth the grime in society to barrel past those barriers to outlive, to outcompete the others. But as those feelings wash over me like slips of wind escaping from the windward to the leeward side of the mountain, they become plants shielding themselves from the scathing coin, stuck in a desert, without roots, decaying in a quiet little corner called home. Or maybe the storm will pick them up, blast its brittle voice across the brown plateau, and they, swept up by the turmoil, become feed for the cattle. Don’t bo

on fresh and bright mornings you waft from white thrones, holding your hand out for mine- as the moon shines against the bleak sky, like a cocoon in a wasted land I twirl in the ashes dead clusters of your kind.

her face in the room you think she's sleeping you step closer she is covered in blisters her hands twisted in a balloon you want to pop it because your head is spinning and light and something seems too ethereal to be true her eyes empty yet seem to be flickering onto yours and lips like swollen berries speak of a word half-remembered in a faded mind- perhaps she is, perhaps she's not your movements she mimics with startling grace and she smiles as she sees you her features relax; a light creeps into her eyes you reach out to hold it captured by the soft curve in her neck her soft sighs but look she is moving towards you at the same

we are buried alive in the past I thought well we're just simple people working mundane lives now they want our grimy hands in the soil so our blood sweat tears will last longer than we will.

when i found my shadow it was on the doorstep of my home it sang with dreadful silence it gave a graceful bow; it hummed a ditty tune and pressed a little hue to the blue paint on my frame before it smiled and said; "my friend, why do you linger here so? the woods were a-waiting for you all day. why do you tottle-round with nothing to do?" said I, with a pause at the idea, "why, I'm busy." said, he, "not I!" and he whipped up a cap which brought him from China and back- then turned on his feet and went forward to leap- over the precipice my eyes lingered on his figure as he receded into a flicker   of white light which often travels

walking through the echoes of life when dark is light, the world filled in the light baubles which adorn them with reckless spite; in the pale gaze of moonlight i sit with eyes trained to the light echoes away of soft music playing i barely heard over the precipice in ladders which keep on falling i barely saw i couldn't hear the yearning which draws me closer to the brink as I resist is responsible for all my convulsions and the night which linger still behind closed eyes. a single tree sways in the torrent of rain drenched by the harsh rips and tears of skin where nothing but itself is made to withstand the cycles of pain reaching inside

I see her yesterday as clearly as I know her today; she speaks to me, a cascade of brazen burgundy hair shifting over the moonlight; a swollen eye peeks through  harrowing mistake She is me, I am her, Together we are.

Believe in me, in sunset whispers in husky drawls over wet sheets of whirlpools at grey steps of the rain slinking at our feet; look to the heavens above and listen to the gulls which never die and the voices which linger still caught in the wind of time. Hush, my love; don't cry. In the bitter dawn of morning A prayer alights in stormy clouds, fire vortexes sweeping in maelstroms amid shrieks of cackling laughter; Serpents wind cool bodies 'round tall grey poles, teeth gnashing into cold pellets; scales shedding with their last breath- eyes flickering in dim ember; Out on the hollows of a jilted oak tree I stood there for a thousand

sunset dawns glitter crickets chirp in dusty pods; weighed icicle wings