Molecules dancing on the end of a knife, flesh tearing into strips of gold and silver.
Strands of metallic kindle that are ready to relinquish the flames of my fantasies.
Watch the colors fold under my eyelids and into my irises, flickering against the letters of my script.
Trifle with my inhalation, subjugation, find me in the sapling hierarchy.
Graphic certainty, assisting oligarchy, find me in the timberland of rested pipedreams.
I cannot help but notice, you’re falling behind the carcass.
Find me in the voluptuary paragon of reveries.
I beg your pardon.
Halt upon delusions of simple grandeurs, frightened caldrons of aspirations.
I beg your pardon.
Reality becomes false, a trance like state with existential properties.
My hermeneutic subjectivity will become the murder of crows.
Here for moral anthropoid obliteration.
Obliterate me.
Find me, forfeit me, and forge me into the sapling hierarchy.
My artless delusion is your modest demolition.
Intricate knots around my limber roots, merely broken boots.
Let us now relive, humble laughter found in shivs.
I am only pretentious; ground me here.
Look into his rationalist view, right on cue.
The joke.
is.
on you.
Unassumingly my greatest objective
YOU ARE READING
Down This Path
PuisiThis selection of poems were written during a series of events that would then unfold into a turning point within my own life. Tragic circumstances muddled by poor judgement and a taste for adventure turned into what I thought was a glorious success...
