Friday, June 8, 2012

Our specialties try ring through their ears,
only to ring out tuneless spiels.
No guarantee of epitome, we all lack our own distinctions.
Distinct in the way people recognize difference.
Different in the way no one recognizes our own distinctions.

And What specialties lay waste to those untrained eyes,
the untrained eyes who gaze blankly at a blank slate,
gazing, never phazed, by what could lie in plain sight,
like gazing at a white page laced with white intricate designs;
invisible to even the most accurate eye.

What is to become of someone who stays out of the light,
who screams silence, and sings in dreams;
When all else is out of sight,
no one seeks something that no one can see.

Monday, June 4, 2012


Wish sleep would put an end to these thoughts; such hideous revelations keep creeping up.
Not sure if I should think them through,
because every time I do the thought of you becomes less appealing;
less pure.
For six whole hours the same thought holds the foreground,
with such flabbergasted reaction has completely been shadowed,
by the potential evil thoughts of one so close that seems to have been mastered.
Such thought goes into such a flow,
repetition of words I wouldn't even think of.
The only way I can stop thinking about them is if I start writing my own,
words over and over, that never touch the surface,
of the evil, no words can describe it.
So hour after hour these words will have to surface,
because the thoughts that seem to scar right above my eyes need to be flooded.
Drowned in a sea darker than the thought is,
disbelief makes me keep repeating what I'm trying to write over...
My train of thought keeps skipping to the record that keeps repeating,
over, and over.. and over, and over...