Caustic Canvas

Crayon wings scribbled on concrete walls

Lush green above, dead cobbles beneath

Life stood still at an odd crossroad

Set in motion, yet frozen in time

The Beginning of The End

 If death wasn't an obvious

Would life still be as precious? 

If endings weren't an obvious

Would beginnings still be as ambitious?

Not a Love Story

She sought home in the world; he weaved worlds in a home

Time differences end a lot many affairs; perceptual differences could never let their's begin

All Of What I Have

I have scars from the times I healed, and, tattoos from the times I couldn't

I have stories from the times I could re-live all over again, and, poetry from the times I didn't want to live even once

I have laughs from the times I pulled through and an ego to clothe them in, and, I have tears from the times I just couldn't, and many a mouthful of whiskey to drown them in

I have an insatiable urge to live for what the times to come might be, and, an irresistible urge to die for what the times to come will never be

Existences

What couldn't be done was lost in regrets

What wouldn't be done was lost in time trail

What couldn't be present was lost in past probable

What wouldn't be present was lost in overthought impossibilities

What couldn't be lived was lost in rusted graves

What wouldn't be lived was lost in crippling wrinkles

Lies for Lives

The soothing lies we sell 

Because the truth is too uncomfortable to tell

It's odd how we seem to convince ourselves it's all to avoid hurting the ones we love

It's funny how we think we know that love can be broken by truths and yet healed in lies

Lies are like cancer; they feed off you

Until it's just you in your cobweb of lies

And skeletons of the ones you'd loved,  around

Dead from the dearth of the truth, stinking of lies

Your lies

The Death of a Poet

It takes bullets to kill a boy and lies to kill a lover

It takes faith to kill a truth and reason to kill a religion

And yet, all it takes to kill a poet, is sprinkled words