I thought I could do it. thought i could put down my phone, hang my regrets, bury away all the grime pasted to my lizard-sluggard-skin. mix it with the soil until persuasion takes hold to holes and holes of aspirations that run deeper than all the toxins i've tilted into my bustling bloodstream to forget them.
i run on and together until i no longer make sense, pinkeye denile and a little pavlov lore. flirting with a sutured confusion. one no longer considers themselves when they're this far deep.
one sandpaper kiss, from a iconoclastic god- and you''re his forever.
Take away your gods and all that's left is paper thin schismatic skin and verbatim views- goosestepped arms and compliant lips.
an embalmed intervention in a bed of windows- incarcerates all second thoughts-if i die without wings at least i die with you
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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(i commend you for using "iconoclastic".)
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The way that you use your words gives me goosebumps. The way that you put your words together, even the way they sound, is nothing less than amazing. You are too amazing for your own good.
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Great title and I liked your word use. The capitalization (if that word is spelled wrong I'm sorry, public school has ruined my ability to spell) and punctuation in some areas was a little weird, but it wasn't so distracting I didn't like the piece. Interesting idea, and again the title really caught my attention.
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