Old poems
As the stretch of lies before us,
grows and leers,
One cannot grasp the concept of happiness.
Glacial eyes,
mouthes clenched tight,
small ghosts of smiles.
As the truth reveals its self,
out in the open,
no more,
shiny lies pouring from your gaping mouth.
---
The silence astounds
the lonely wanderer.
As echoes violently shake
the bleakly bare walls.
As one can merely
dance, and stare
into a night so peaceful and new,
only to hide the bitter sense of longing.
Those days of blissful sunshine,
sweet warmth against cool, mournful skin,
only a ghost of human contact.
---
Observing the brief silences,
while one rests,
hands folded nonchalantly.
One might say we're in love.
Quick glances away,
from smug facades.
While forbidden musings,
gesticulate in the mind.
---
Why ignore sunlight
beating down upon
bare skin?
Eyes widen,
ignorance measured
in even steps.
---
"Body"
My heart,
a mass of splattered paint
upon a single wall.
My face,
a bundle of nothings,
with no one to love.
My hands,
stone replicas of what was,
what never will be.
---
"logic"
these florescant truths,
unappetizing, and blatent,
meander silently into our lives.
Numbers, quatitative devices,
take hold, strangling love,
eviserating hope.
While unfeeling logic reigns,
one cannot flourish.
Level-headed properties
destroy emotion.