choices

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White Light

A heart falls apart,
Shattered on the southern sun.

The light ends at night,
To be born again, white light.

But yet the stars never end.

-Hunter Coch

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No Way

In search for the road,
Seeking a destination.
Lost in wilderness,
A state of desolation.
In the forest of be-ing.

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Be

What’s life
      But a dream,
To be lived to its fullest
By the living dead.

Live your potential,
      Become.
Become what your soul screams for.

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The Nature of Night

When the sun goes down
And most of the land dreams deep
There are those that wake,
Some in pleasures deep embrace,
Others alone in torment.

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Torn

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With a deep embrace
Barriers torn asunder,
With a deep embrace
The woven threads of destiny
Rework into new patterns.


Reach

The hands of temptation reach

For the strings of lust.

Oh, to put goodness aside

And give in to the darkness.


Within the Street Lit Room

Within the street lit room
The woman stands with her back to the man.

Within the street lit room
The man walked towards her.

Within the street lit room
The city flashes from behind the blinds.

Within the street lit room
She turns to catch his gaze.

Within the street lit room
Anger fills his face.

Within the street lit room
She smiles gently.

Within the street lit room
The crowds and cars blair from Below.

Within the street lit room
Falls a knife.

Within the street lit room
The door slams violently.

Within the street lit room
The sounds of a woman running down the hall can be heard.

Within the street lit room
Is the smell of iron and liquor.

Within the street lit room
Lies the man bloodied and fallen.

Then the street lit room
The Beast lies dead.


Awake

I awoke to find self loathing,
A spark of death in my heart.

I awoke to swimming despair,
A drop heartache in an ocean.

I awoke to the light fading,
And the hurt expanding by leagues.

I awoke to a new emptiness,
That’s as old as my age of existence.

I awoke to the pains I’ve caused
To an undeserving heart.

I awoke to a moonless night
The stars no longer speak.


Bleeding (Censored)

I’m falling,

Falling from the mountains of emotion,

Falling from the epic climb up cliffs and peaks.

I can smell piss,

It permeates the house and carpet,

It lives in the furniture, I clean and the next week returns.

I’m lonely,

Living day to day with minimal adult interaction,

Living in a house but unable to make it a home.

I crave,

Longing for the inebriation and sweet forgetfulness of spirits,

Longing for times when the weight is still there, but considerably less.

I’m tired,

Sleep comes in short bursts and then poor in quality,

Sleep brings good dreams, the only reprieve.

I cry,

Tears in the early morning, before the sun rises,

Tears of self pity, emptiness, and loss.

I’m nauseated,

Puke is always at the point of expulsion,

Puke is always fought back down, no time for that.

I’m sad,

Saddened by the mental incapacity of the father,

Saddened by the hurt I’ve caused the ones I love.

I exist,

Only by the will and strength of diapers both young and old,

Only for the love given and the smiles of my children.

I live.


Which Lover

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Which lover will come

To satisfy a night’s dream?

 

Which lover will touch

On pleasures most delightful?

 

Which lover will give

The gift of tongue and deep breaths?

 

Which lover will take

What their lust demands?

 

Both will come to my delight.