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Literature
to become nothing
Nameless, faceless plague,
Thickly seeping into a cracked vessel,
Imbibing every cirrus, every eager breath.
The sludge trudges,
The Black contracts, bereaved,
The verdant grid, relieved
The sluggish spell begins to quell
Ardor,
Now only a whimper on fragile lips
Nameless, faceless plague
Swelling in congruence with every slower swipe
Maneuvering the psychic climate
Into Barrenness.
The Black is marvelously alluring,
She charms only genuine energies, vexes them.
She works against the Organic propulsion
Whose effort honors
boundless proliferation
Nameless, faceless plague
Abiding in once animate ducts (shrinking and vascular)
Clogging and
Literature
Do you feel the same?
I'm still just so lost
Can't believe my sadness
You shouldn't leave
What can I say?
I never felt this way
Tried to ignore it for months
I can't hide no more
Maybe it's too late?
My blush increases every second
You know I like someone
But you don't know it's you
Maybe it's true?
You make me smile
I talk happily with you
With you I feel safe and happy
Do you feel the same?
Literature
The Sneeze
I knew it was coming.
It was coming, the same way it always comes.
Slithering and Sneaking,
Moving however it pleased.
But yet,
I could still tell it was coming,
Elusive as ever.
Upon its arrival,
All was full of contortion,
Hands,
Faces,
Eyes.
Attention gathers.
Absorbing the contorting
Soaking it up as their own.
It began to dawn.
Its presence could no longer be hidden.
It had come---
ACHOO!
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You must first lose yourself before you can find yourself so you are half way there!