paintings of
a city in its fervor
The great pretenders
I among them
Feign moving with it
Swirling steps pounded
In the very same spot we've
Stood our entire lives
frozen in haste
Crowds bustle
ceaselessly
Rush hour is every hour
And it's always been so
green lit streets
stampeding fleets
The chorus of
A broken city
Teeming with
Anything other
Mimicking life
Pavement coldly
Punching back at
Our eyes
Longing for green
Tall thin
Blades swirling with fate racing
Dancing over treelines
Ripe with beetles
Butterflies
beautiful and colorful
Vibrant and deeper hued
Than cheap satin dresses
poppish colors
Worn in vogue
portals to other
that go nowhere
Eyesore and numbed
unfeeling feelings that were never felt
Leering at uniform
loathing lives that aren't lived
pretending to pretend
Burning for all thats burned
Wasted, I'm wasted
Where this rams straight
Into white walls
a wreckish ghoul
Unhealthy, Plentiful, Bountiful
Blinds close
Pace
Aggravation
Desperation
Sleep torn asunder
Dreams brought forth to screened eyelids in wishes
Wants
Needs
Quieted by
The lush cacophony outside
vile
Blinds open
ever after cycling, whirring on
damned hearts beating in stagnation
heavy suns borne on aching backs
droning on
droning on
unabated
bared fangs
grit of the soul
in apathetic waves
lost to mutiny
and all that's passed in past
our beautiful goddess
nostalgia
all that is wistful
all that has melted away
in the wake of motion
so it goes
by disquieted hearts
so it goes
stayed your hand
so it goes
words unsaid
so it goes
reveling in all that is regretted
suckling at its breast
the very yolk of self
a gentle, cold, and dark fever
unfurling cascading ribbons
of blanketed sighs
wisps of us
collected
in this string of consciousness
thin
shallow
nonetheless it is the rest of us
and our restfulness
restlessly
grieving
tears
for the sake of it
