Lights out

I know how to stand, like an inevitable corpse,

hanging my sight upon kegs of indifferent births,

I like to get born every now and then, more so the death

is as warm as a vein in euphoric pierce,

wrenching a puddle-full of tears onto this gardebn of night,

i take a walk under the neon sheen of my plastic eye,

The sun has remained that harmless pest,

a shameless visitor to my hidden room,

these blinds melt far too easily under the warm-gun-push

of his beam,

Far too naked in my pride to lurk like thickening water,

uncertain in my trickle, i behave like ink,

With a pastel prayer wrapped in high-grade cellophane guilt,

I talk to god,

Like this technicolour glee upon your eye, i sleep like a

fruitless bark,

You have had your fair share of fire,

dressed in library flavoured silence,

your eyes begin to look like black black soot

and time turns into an aimless habit,

For you are all love with

just a little taint,

God breathes beside

a fornicating saint,

But they tell me you know how to smile!

like a full moon starved of light...