STOPTALKING 5

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STOPTALKING 4

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Divining Digittalli

Traumatic True Romantic

Love is a word

with many meanings
and here it is unlove
the spell of rotten ambition
the situationally fucked upped

A spiral slope
to black hole porcelain
flushing me out like a toilet
this circum center is where we exist
the helix down to suction point

I’ve continued this secret thought
that we are two intertwined souls
spinning on the life strings
the twisted sign of infinity
destroying ourselves for each other every chance we get

Then these bad omens
should they crow and keep me away
or is it the end of me

each time looking me in the eye says

I could feel for you

Two people
feigning humility the humanity the empathy
in time they spawn one little one
to burn holes through the hearts of man

and burning scorch the books or the masses or the skyscrapers

You are my center point love
fear and time cascading across this level of life
this level where we talk meet face to face
and commune business strategies

all while pretending that we’re not really dying at 1000 rates per minute

The worlds between us levitate and coexist

like some listless state of mind

I am not your friend by any means

I want the savage capacities of man
shredding me up drinking my blood

I have already told you about

the vampire dreams

and how I am so spiritually seduced by you
this life the lonely heat
how there are no rules to the laws of fate

Endless Thought <> Spiral Explosion

how shocking it is

every time the same thing happens every
time chopping at a future told

as endlessly as hair grows down

time swoons and braids

knots and gets caught in my petting hand

a coiled softness

fond of rats nests

sour milky eyes

matted wet drool
pillow stains

a bed of crumbs

numb tingling sensation in the brain

tasteless tongues

Swamp Dreams

MuRMuR

Old mottos resurfaced in a strange land

Ogling blindly eyeballs all over the horizontal landscapes

Laying with my head upside dangling from the bed

Drunk wobbling it up now to find balanced faces like demi-demon ghosts white haunting

panting voices and legs like days dwindling each other down with nail file twine

How long would it take to cut open your arm with an unlit candle?

Rub at it turning the wax skin and burn

I got your half blood head fang hanging over my bed now

It bleeds on me still

Drips in my mouth while I rest

It tastes okay I guess

What kind of flavour is this?

This popsicle is too hot

I need your mouth right to come

Even eyelids glitter when you're crying dear

The spot is less then complimentary

But I do like your ears still

Magritte, The Lovers, and Me, Alone

The End