x : Unknown

Poetry as History. History as Catharsis. Catharsis as Poetry.

[shade of a shadow]

how much longer should I take the loss
my dreamer drowning in fire and fog

a profound mistake
settles on my terrain as early snow
bright and beautiful, then
featureless and silent

[untitled]

I thought I had lost you
even though I've known where you are all this time

but like a certain dick I know
I doubt my own identity
and drug myself with what I fear
fighting to destroy the very thing I am

Mistrust is well placed
as I smart bomb myself over and over

I wear the suit of many smiles
in hiding from the projection/protection of my peers

Behind my shielding hand I spy
the thing I want most in the world
I've compassed your direction all this time
though you are heedless of the watchful flatglass eye