Substance

Nefarious narcotics in various way, shape or form. Hysteria runs rampant away from the norm. Ecstatic and ruptured, the vessels are torn. Bleeding in vain like a lost one when mourned. Relieving the vein as the shot creeps up and drain… all the pain, alleviating migraines. The pills and sacks, the thrills ripple in stacks. Pipes and lines will kill your lower spine. Posthypnotically speaking, the aftermath is fine. The cost of a better day is the loss of past ways and time. Reduce the neg and produce the positive kind. Your outcome weighs heavily on the current state of mind. Truce can stray like any other day, but truth be made when tolls are fully paid.

Surely, But No

Test test hey hey. Check 1 okay. *Expletive*in’ trying somethin’ different. Roses are red, violets are *Expletive*ing royal, you shall not dread, in the heat of the boil. My extra thread is pre packed in foil. Half baked head, combustion… Now spoiled. Synecdoche approach me, tee hee.

The Red Whisper

Rose red reborns with every shed, the buds breathe volumes in every head. The trail of petals lead notes re-read, for the the giver is appreciative in what she's said. Like a stroll in the park or a walk in the sands, the refreshing take is at your hands. In the palm of passion, the beauty of love, so calm and relaxin', a duty worth of. Sub Rosa like no other, club soda, sprites, and shrubs. The blistering thorns are spikes we chugg. Bitter and sweet, a mound of hugs. A pearly retreat or lackthereof. Smooth and sultry, they clack when tugged. Compiling heat in the violently rub, the friction of peace is pummeled by grudge. At ease, at last with the morning grass he dug... A rosebush re-planted to pass more love.

The Kite

A kite flies high with the wind, if there wasn't, down she goes. You hold on from one end, and the movement is unknown. She weaves indefinetly, and you follow as she flows. It's like watching a piece of art, aimlessly searching for a soul. At the height of it's purpose, the handler's one to probe. The attachment rate, set her free, or bring her home. The kite flies high with the wind, in which he swoops, sin, and win. For you cannot see him, temptation is the space between you, airily thin. The higher the kite, the more breeze slips through, watch her as she goes. The reeling rope unwinds upon time, is it new, how far will you go. If it's battered then it matters, cause she's the same, feelings unscathed by the blow. The kite flies high with the wind, if there wasn't, you should know.

Sunrises at Dawn

Reflections bounce off the mirror as one does off the pond, the attention one considers is often called a bond. As one we see the notions, inseperable even after dawn. The sun is always setting, even at dusk, opposite lawns. One eighty degrees left, at night, sunrise to the right. Still in sight her face catches the yellow light, inceptions of a yawn. The warmth of eyes, combined with features undisguised, is the culminating preference of any that shall hide. Only to open up in front of you, the joint effort clashes tide. Rise and fall, instinctual withdraw, does not tell how you feel at all. In hindsight, the cliff is not so tall, for those who've felt before, corrections breaks the fall. The need to be loved, is only love itself, as it is blind, the heart will simply melt. Captivations are clearly what holds the self, in it's best interest, reflects the inner health.