Untitled Free Verse 1
It’s like a damn sinkhole, fresh atop the upper ventricle.
Atriums collapse and muscles transform into serpent like critters.
Suicide plots thicken among cellular levels.
Self destruction, death by minions.
No reincarnation just regret and guilt,
Existence used to be easier than this make shift bed I built.
Poised well to poison myself and fade out in a kilt.
Self degradation until the remaining resin left is silt.
Chagrin defines what coincidence does not defy.
Consummation with demons that I resurrected in ignorance and stupidity.
Rejecting the serendipity of bliss amiss times of well needed comfort for events of deserved anguish.
Fishing the soul for inaccuracies, inadequacies… incentives of inflection and preparation for imaginary adversaries.
To the average comprehension it’s all formatted word art with the cliche text fonts and Windows clipboard illustrations.
To angels its heresy and desecration of temple and all things heavenly to include divine manifestation.
Removal by drowning is self absorption, removal by jumping is self exaltation, as self propelling as a projectile through the mouth like bullets seem it seems the best way to exit scene is to…
Leave in a dream.