My lover was passive
He was made of glass and
We didn’t appear full enough
Tried making eye contact in summer trees
Seeing we weren’t meant to become lucid bees
Just tiny things playing make believe

∆ Neural Alchemist | Self-mythologist ∆
My lover was passive
He was made of glass and
We didn’t appear full enough
Tried making eye contact in summer trees
Seeing we weren’t meant to become lucid bees
Just tiny things playing make believe
I always come back to sadness
Maybe it’s a shape shifting anger
Maybe we’ve hung her; together
But it’s all I ever knew, it’s whom I make true intricate love to
I inflicted upon me paired with hesitations and soon to be’s
cause well maybe I’m human
I sink through all your deadly seas
I sort through my pieces of wool and used flannels and cloth
And I touch the human in every passerby knowing it’s never enough
I touch the heart that aches with stone burning parallels
I touch the mouths through mountains of victims as the dead sings farwells
I vow to be untouched
It’s not enough to breathe in and exhale my stomach, my liver; my heart
It’s hard enough to wake alert and dress up the rest with the earth’s hardened dirt
Soul tied to a suit and some layers that aren’t mine
But to most it’s fine, some say quite divine
I couldn’t harm a fly; I wish to kill a billion
And so
I harm the self that promises to let things go (let things sow)
Burdened by the death of each solitary season
Hands pressed in pulses pleading to be granted the sights of a hermits reason
I’m not sure of what I am feeling, my heart can break, my ego; callous
What keeps me asleep is a range to run
Emotional in wake I bake the sun
Holes of bittersweet spit up, you nuzzling my breast till numb
Turning in, on and off
Tuning off, out and in
I attempt to sing those sensitive songs, I pretend with oneself, playing once upon a time
There’s no where to go as my soul is magnetic to your salvation, even here the space of our bodies deafening
I don’t know exactly why this fight takes flight, ideal is a winners war; no casualties
In the distance you looked like home
In the distance I felt your warmth
The best kind
Reassuring ole faithful
Trust embedded in our waves
Breaking shores holds my hand
heal my head
I couldn’t wait for me to let go
Let God
For you to lead me

There’s a peasant in me
More tame
Domesticated
A puppeteer, my sweet labrinyth
From her I get my strength
Hard steps
Most prized possessions
My sorry little secrets
The heavens of womanhood.
Revelations of my souls essence.
Emerging ashes saturated in a deliciously delicate black hole of grit.
You know, the usual.
And you?
Fragile Fields
speck of dust
seven dead stars
bright on earth
tough enough
dangerous
native fields
of rainbows
of blue lotus
sirens of the womb
being of severed sea
shifting soon as wonders of the world
as little sweet girls
forming fields and seven hills
fragile Fields
a fearful yield