Double Dares, No Take-Backs

I wanna make my way into your kiss
I wanna live inside your mind next to your favorite songs
I won’t slow my pace until your walkway
I wanna lose my mood inside a late night phone call with you…

~*~

Keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be your clapping beat, now won’t you sing along

The air between our shaky hands won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin gets it all wrong

.

Smile, but the gloom doesn’t dissipate to the moon

You’re my childish reverie, I’m your little red balloon

Play 21 questions until the question marks are tired

Of answering the same old things in our curious minds

.

Keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be the song stuck in your head, now won’t you sing along

The wind beneath our heaving chest won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin gets it all wrong

.

Cry, but heaven doesn’t hear what you wanna say

The angels left you powerless, they don’t exist for today

Laugh until the laughter begins to sound suspicious

No one could be that happy, but we’re just both auspicious

.

Keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be the lyrics you never wrote down, now won’t you sing along

The zephyr under our interlocked eyes won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin gets it all wrong

.

Talk, but the stars only hear static words and white noise

Expectations take over emotions, you just wanna have a voice

Count sheep until we run out of sandy footprints to break

I’ll go around, wrapped in your bedpost, dreaming of mistakes

.

Keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be the instrument in your hands, now won’t you sing along

The breeze by our swaying hips won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin gets it all wrong

.

Kiss, but hell is so faraway from everything else

Slowing down time as gravity makes contact with nonsense

Dance until we’re out of breath, until we don’t care

You’re my spin the bottle, but babe I’m your truth or dare

.

So keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be the only favourite song you know, now won’t you sing along

The tempest brewing between our tense lips won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin feels warm and our hearts get it all wrong.

~*~

Feeling my love mood—I kind of see you
When I climb into my mind, that’s where I keep you
And lately where I waste my time
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, show me everything I want
Because I want you now…

d[r]ead

oh, how i

wish that

the future

could just

take away

the past

from the

present

so that i

wouldn’t be

too tense.

Fear in the Heart of the Beast

It’s senseless, isn’t it?

Chasing stars like this. A malevolent race of blood and starlight, dust and galaxy, radiance amid vespertine. The vulnerabilities I partake with reproachful glances and consternated sighs, as another concatenation languishes itself woefully from my tremulous velvet palms. All the unnecessary perplexities. Chatoyant winks. Recrudescent idiosyncrasies. Pyrrhic viciousness. It’s almost maddening, like pulling at a switch to turn on the dark. The desuetude of prayer, the imbrication of penitence against sin, the self-sustaining cycles of ultracrepidarianism against the gallimaufry voices, ridden with febricula and rallying beyond this pannychis, begging to be heard. Yet my solitary garrison quavers none, and left to my own devices, I arm myself against those shots in the midnight, forays into forests of violent crimes, heart hammering against my Adam’s apple so harshly that I am confident I may simply poke my tongue out and watch its scarlet palate throb. The fear, the intensity, the asperity of it all, finally taking its toll on me before I waned away my lurid admonition; my enemy was not those who wish me dead at their skins, it is I and this foolish quavering soul. The paroxysms of resentment and infinitesimal blinks and twitches of arrogant pain jolting through my spinal fluid, kneecaps shattering and popliteal sweating as I kneel forcibly, succumbing indignation and surrendering both hands to the efficacious reign of the nightmare, derisive silhouette shifting only ever smugly in its carved skeletal throne, positioned rightly upon a bejewelled vestibule. The requiem wails its bereft knell. One by one, the myriad astrology coruscates into wretched dimness. The universe has gone out. Only nonexistence, spilling with emptiness and triumphant in its ironic vitality, remains to be seen. The nightmare sneers. Too late.

And, at the very destruction and devastation of both my tantamount solidarity as well as the fabric of reality, at the amusing otiosity of it all, at the grandest scheme of this laughable redundancy, I can only wonder with a morbid rickety grin, unto what end shall it all lie?