1. 8 months ago 

   A Poem

   Zipped up my eroded skin

   as you saw the blatant transparency of the 

   pick-pocketed soul of desire

   I aspired to belong

   Here.

   A place with segmented love woven into

   puzzle pieces that will

   never touch.

   The dream I am God in-

   will take its course is a ball rolling downhill, on

   an uneven surface.

   Enough to be a king and a servant

   A host and a child

   A way of feeling the formulaic decencies of

   society- alive when batteries are charged.

   A patriarchal bliss or Godhead of morality

   It may be more important to emulate the friction than the comfort-for

   lullabies only serve to put you to sleep.

2. Notes

If you have to make a living, it's already made you.

I'm another artist who wants you to read what I write. Basic idea of a blog? I think so.

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