deepundergroundpoetry.com

faithless gospel

cocooned in an emotional blister
like a cyst
like an unhatched egg scarred with a dead embryo
logic in contortions, acrobatic reasoning bending but never breaking
each corner straining making the sense limp from common
building a sandcastle morality
conscience with a double-tongue, forked and tasting,
capturing forbidden scents from the world's rushing breath
encapsulating, embracing and crushing
retaining them upon a subliminal level;
subconscious spores,
consentual infections sowing what it reaps,
idealistic distortions rendering reality obsolete,
its fruit will never threaten you with promises or burden you with hope.

within i am a hypothermic fixture,
crystallized in a private game of longing, desperate,
cloaked in old fashions to usurp the life they previously held,
diffusing an identity,
leaving a residue mood deep and teaching me to impersonate your dead.

little fish eats Big Fish from the inside out
and both lose to the river's tide--
begging for hate's intervention,
the diplomacy of indifference, the amnesty of detachment
and a return to the stifling confines of an imploding catastrophe of responsible existence.

never through with premature alarm clock nightmare calls,
painful mechanical cries of the newborn morning still purple with the suffocation of dreams,
fresh from crying itself to sleep lying next to a  profound vacancy.

here, a man-child ripe with the fever of hope,
dehydrating with a profuse expulsion of eager tenderness and fresh affection searching for a home
quarantined from an infectious smiling despair
with sacrificial martyrs bleeding poetry
union's armagedon and severed ties bleeding out,
leaving pale shells of thoughts called words
statues of post-immaculate forms frozen in a near embrace,
reaching out but never touching
swollen eyes burning with the evaporation of tears
a mind throbbing sore with the hammers of obsession

this faithless gospel has given me a cause to live against like a surrogate spine,
while the future, once a silholuetted blaze,
now lays a dead cinder
the disintegrating ash choking, an inhale of burning memory,
blocking, locking.  
asphyxiating  
a recirculating carbon dioxide scream
Written by RByron418 (R Byron Johnson)
Published
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