AM (Feburary 16,1992 / Maryland)


Subside self
A suffocating conception
we must fill
the quite demise plan
of own voiced
Spews of days passing
Growing impatient with this silent suffering
A quite sound numb
As ridiclous as
I may smile present pleasure
upon this matisse
lurks the wepts at
As you fool, that I'm in satisfy
Speak humor, I may
But as i wish to lay on this sphere
and intake the last inhale
The throne, of aloof
i reside
i must want to forever
buriede beneath these warm colors
My dark fantasy, i must confide in stealth
Have i grown more cynical through the seasons?
Have i seeked my end,
mistakened for at peace?
Have i already died
just that a zombified creature resumes?
I faulter to answer these questions i ponder
But a subside self
i presume
i am the demise of my own

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