:::itchy joe:::

the epitome
explanation
a foretelling of sorts
laid for my eyes
of which i abhor
take ratchet
and tight
spin  round, tension
and hold for u now
come bastard
come quick
stay seated
while u beg
a ripple in fate
a turn of your neck
stay seated
white gluttony
above u i stand
and sleep...
for u darkly
in every new moon
and one for your last
as the iron hits the spoon
and with weak breath i push
the iron to the fire
and the evil which damns you
take life and expire.

:::amber.hart.sinclair:::

:::for want of nothing:::

stand,
I am now walking down
a silent moment stolen now,
the sun is forceful to my eye
my breath beats hard
with water I hide
tears are somber, but gone I wish
I make them my last
sail rotted ship
I guess in truth
they're all the same
the light is usual
the window frame
key symbolic
of this meaningless vault
a symphony of void
a love that i've lost
but had only imagined
and thought was real
but so easily leaves me
with nothing to feel
stand guarded child,
never reveal
never assume
never again. 

:::amber.hart.sinclair:::