By the name of the Witch Sisters & Brown acid And the colors of the Forty five Amulets & Abalone Scarabs By the sound of Anubis' Unblinking Eyes, I command ye, feeble Demon of White- on-White Collar Crimes and Bathroom Groping BE GONE! BE NOTHING AS WE ARE! AWAY FOREVER I COMMAND THEE TO STOP READING
I've been so gone from my Center But I've had my eye out and I brought a machete, I will hack a new path, The right one for me On my way, I'll learn Many things, some Exciting, some Frightening But I will be looking Forward to seeing In all directions Yet again And When I Can, I will have You Two in Our Home with a New Me Or at least be there By myself, As the Self I was born To be
Maybe if had I derailed my thought process I could elevate to a misplaced next-best That train is off the tracks, Thrown from a window Thrown from my life Tossed just far enough To see I'm better off Without a a single Mile of that Nothing-of-a-stretch Laid into my ground
And here, While we pick apart Our fancy thoughts; We are in communion We dance in synch, Entwined in a mutual Feedback loop Yet during phases Of agency - You completely Disconnect Disappear
I'd really love to warn you But I really don't have your clue
You once carried a flame but Since then you've let It fade out, Meant no harm in it. Fell off deep with it. Gone off fast with it, but Now I must be done with it. You once carried my torch but Since then you've let It burn out, Assumption. Common place. Palace guards. Rusted face. Let it swirl, let it swirl, Relight. You once carried a fire...
Lazy peek-a-boo's, Flinched palms & Hard-earned hiding, Self-exploring the Proper difference Between gold & Object permanence Was told once that "Gone is just gone, And it's hard to make That make sense." Maybe it behooves, Crimped calms & Hard-earned finding,
His anxious anvil spoke up Real loud in the slow down, Yet turn roaring whispers & Your love into lips tightly tucked, A silence not so sound & A warmth that sent shivers
ABSTRACTIONS: the shadow operatives are sent to silence the storm
crows. Say the Wind made Them crazy, Say maybe the Voices do too. SOMETIMES I WONDER WHETHER OR NOT PEOPLE OUTSIDE OF THE UNITED STATES THINK THE "AMERICAN DREAM" IS LIVING THROUGH THE EYES OF MATT LEBLANC It's not your mouth or eyes but the mind inside that is a scary surprise that is all for tonight the scabs itch, we will scratch.