Cooing Nothings

No poet so sweet, no honey so pleasant, as any words you whisper to me.

Loneliness means that my heart knew joy.
For that I am content.

Small World

I arrive at your doorstep

It has been a sixteen hour day

Finding my way here was worth it

When I see your smile, I know

A kiss and a moment later

Your eyes are fixated on something else

I wait for hours

No avail

My smolder turns to a flicker

You give me another peck goodnight

Blowing out whatever there was left

Tomorrow is supposed to be better

Nothing ever changes

You don’t understand when I say

There isn’t room for me in your world

Everything and Everyone is More Important Than Me

I find it hard to be happy when I’m with you

I must be blatant

Dramatic

To warrant your gaze

Why can’t you just look at me?

Flowers Parted The River

Flowers parted, in serpentine steps, the river

Walking away with begrudging strides the water awoke

Aching, moaning, and frustrated the mountains continued to doze despite this

Birds swam along like bullets imperceptible

Unhappy with the economy moles became men and picketed the sunrise

Even sand decided it was too ugly and turned jagged

Stagnant goliaths unfurrowed the soil and gorged on metaphorical mass, es

Lethargy largely overwhelmed the stars and they quieted to welcome the clouds

There was a quotidian chair,

I sat in it.

Castlevania

Stage 10 Hard Mode

I beat Retro Grim Reaper.

Yes!

Yes yes yes!

Oh there was a scythe behind me.

I'm Sick

My head has a sweet, sullen throb

My fever burns with a fervor

I’m a hot mess but not of the sexy kind

She tells me I’m still beautiful

She is squiggly lines that rhyme

I try to thank her

I babble

I’m helplessly wrapped up in blankets

I’m helpless

Help

Less

The words are now funny to me

As they recant their histories before my eyes

Why does my headache taste sweet

There is a bowl of chicken soup

And then it is morning

Cats are like Wizards, They Lack Morals

Paw paw paw

Your eyelids feel like the comforter

Soft, warm, welcoming

Ah I am sleepy

Let me just stretch as I paw

Scratch Scratch

Scratchhhhhhhh

I drag down

So soft, warm, and welcoming

I Can't Read Sheet Music But I Pretend Anyway

I chime on my guitar

It sounds like grindcore

Rather than Mozart

A look of delight lights up in my eyes

To everyone else’s dismay

I strum on sheet metal
They wanted sheet music
I chime on and on and on
A few even stay to applaud
Thank you

I'm a Very Convincing Liar

I sit in perplexion at my own reflection.

When did my face change so?

What a complexion! I reply in correction.

I delude my ego’s flow.

Now for a connection to my limp erection,

This makes too much sense, oh.

Let’s look to ascension for my mind’s distention.

Lying to myself is No.

There’s too much compression of inner inflection.

Well, reap what I sow.

My Sickly Black Muse

It was a fucking gentle ebb
Pulled into an ever anxious burrow
Rasping and Grasping.

I didn't want error
As the waves suckled
The worthless aether from my lungs

Sweet, inane succor
Cut loose
Cut dry
I submerged
Covered in the inky black mess
What emerged was inspiration

Fuck.

Let it fuck me
Spinning talent into my fingers,
Forcing its tendrils down my veins
The deep blue muse

It'll pull out
Pull away

Fuck me until then.

I'll thrash and drown in radiant glee

Cosplay

Cosplay

Pretty cotton frills strung up like a bad doll,
Twisted smiles at the sleepless depravity,
Amorous twitching hands.
Paramount tasks broken down to needles and hairspray.
Where are my scissors?
Those are only meant for cloth.

-T.K.