Too Soft
Must
“One mustn’t fret, but instead breathe. Fall into the void of life. Smile, hands up. Embrace the ride..”
“One must ground daily with the percussion of the past performing. One must be here, find it wherever you are..”
Bug On A Wall
“Bug on a wall, doe eyed, pressed to a window, steamed and well, comfortable..
I handled the last storm.
I’ve been meeting people who look like me again. I must admit I’m timid and shy to approach..”
Shadow Snake
Too slick to trust
A shadow snake
Still I dance through the teeth of fate
I beg the God with bloodshot eyes
Could I strike with the soil?
Can I rewrite my sky?
Forgive me now, or let me go
Forgive me—flesh and stone
Tryna find my way alone
Truth don’t come but confesses
Still learning how to break
Behind tints possessive
Funny
Laughing hyenas have misunderstandings and particular landings
As the way that I move
It’s too smooth you say
Much too runny
Masked in funny
An instrument for disaster
Their hidden laughter
Wades
Through the Carnivora
Beyond the many wishes
So I beg to land in forgiveness
To set in stone my sins to flesh and
Move from what’s told to win again
Thirsty
I’ve perished
They told me so
A few times
I’m tongue tied
A thing in the undercurrent
A hole in one
When I woke I was thirsty
An insatiable existence
I know I’ll be punished
I know it’s a sin
Made of Moon
The river split all too soon
I was made of moon
So I spared the connection and tuned the loving beast
Who chips it’s nails to soften the beatings
Source
These wings don’t flock
I am not forced by any wind
Ungrounded from the land and molds
Behold everyone, the individual
A pure source
Pure eyes
A soul who’s unknown
Doesn’t quite belong anywhere
Found in anything and everything; every being
Heavy
I want to be seen through and through
I want to have enough, never stop
There’s pauses in my membrane
I don’t recall the order of fate
How I wish it’d play out
How I pray to erase
Escaping is the back door
Unspoken
I beg my soul to be revoked and
The soul never wanted to carry me anyways
It names me a burden
Dead weight
Hips in heaps of heavy and a bit unsteady
Haunting
Smokey listeners
Reaching for the shallow limbs of black
They sink and wail to discover life
And so I remain, printed and somewhat flaky
Together, forested in fictions
I lie to myself when I stretch out of the hopeful comforts
I’m picked as bark
The dog days are quite holy; haunting
The body was muddy and dug out of void
Being, holy as well
Peer through
Identify me, then leave me to be, leave me alone
As I grow feral to the moans of cicadasÂ
I will touch the golden skies in faith
The ones I indulge in and tell stories about
Freegrandmaa 