Her body is my coffin,

Bullshit Poetry.



no. 1
I love him amorously, and as deeply as the sea, figuratively .
The future hold's no promises, the same as a cold metal ring.
His body is shaped to fit around me, perfectly.
Perhaps this is for good, or just a passionate fling.
His love is captivating, and holds me undoubtedly.
But, from where I'm standing, it looks like a damn good thing.
We're both humans, mistakes are made, but forgiven, life goes on.
We're at a cross-roads. We're growing up, thinking about the future.
Maybe we're getting too normal, but never boring.
We've been together for so long, his finger prints feel like my own
we're leaving this place, it's empty and cold, but I know I'm not alone.
I'm comforted, and comfortable. Maybe not forever, but for now, it means the world.
This last year was hectic, and generally, pretty rough.
We survived, in this chaos, kid, and came out with hardened skin.

We're nothing but zombies, who care about fashion.

no. 2

I'm standing, red dirt as far as the eye can see.
The heat is causing ripples in the air, the wind,
fickle. A sign? are there truly signs in our lives?
Merely galaxies of questions, and no answers.
This place s hot and dry, but my skin grows sticky.
Still, nothing comes to mind. Nothing...Nothing...
Thirst begins to consume me, I notice the mountains.
They surround me, my face is cooled in a gentle wind.
These roads are going nowhere,Baby, and neither am I.

no. 3
Life at it's prime;
consuming, using, wasting
and trading, surviving,
controlling, judging
and, building...thriving and dying.

Are we just simple mammals
or the top of the food-chain?

Who really knows?
The religious leaders?
the government? the establishment?
the Buddhists, who won't even kill a cockroach?
The science books in elementary schools? Darwin?
who is truly Alpha and Omega? Man or God? Flesh or Holy ghost?
Is it all the same thing? Or are we born into eternal, spiritual debt?
Our minds are left to speculate, to ultimately criticize and persecute.
If one is lucky enough, they lack the ability to ponder.
To wonder, to dream, to imagine.
To just be boring, dull. Simple.
Complexity is a gift, and burden of mind and soul.
A Blessing and a Cancer.
The disease spreads, as we force antidotes into our bodies.
Our genetic code holds the only answer. Death.
We come from dust, and dust is what we will be again,
Grim Reaper, the messenger of truth.

I am the Alpha and the Omega,
the First and the Last,
the Beginning and the End.