undergroundmuse
Maybe plague is the wrong word
for how much you resemble a sickness.
Sweater was maroon,
color of my memory.
Skin was honey,
the taste on my lips.
Sweet remembrance,
longing soul,
though they are lost now.
Forever in the depth of memory.
White sheets
intersecting beings
holding only each other.
Their silence is comfort
though unspoken
love is still known.
My coffee cup is warm from the coffee content.
Yours is warm from hot cocoa.
We sit in the days new light.
Silent understanding, across our only table;
Silent observation of this beautiful world.
The mind:
inventor of dreams,
the full cup of thoughts;
a place to hide in silence.
Fragrance fills the air.
Sweet flowers.Suns warm kiss.
Captivated in a sensory overload.
Lost on your planet,
I never want to be found.
To my alarm
the dark hall way
lights didn't turn on.
The switch
clicked up and down.
Yet no results followed.
I stepped forward
into the dark
and it
swallowed
me.
The anonymous nameless;
also known as the shameless.
Pop the pills on the tongue,
soon the trip has begone.
The minds eye awakens
leaving all frustrations.
He strolls
in the dark
committing suicide
in his previous life
to be reborn
a stranger.