Schism

My precious thoughts, they leak
Onto the sedimented rocks, they sleep.
Tread cautiously you comely woman,
As you callously walk around
You touch them and provide false hope.

The schism is tangible and inflated

Relapse and recovery a cliched cycle
Perennially disturbed, a biased trial
Exhumed feelings and morbid flesh lust
So good together, remnants of feigned crust.

Epilogue

Welcome aboard the house of cards
humble abode, no holds barred
Our hearts laid the foundation
part misery part joy,
life and death in its creation.

Careworn door creaks out sonnets
masking the muffled screams
It once held love in every corner
now it is a trapping circle.

Sit by the library's fire, rest your head
enough time to wallow in burning nest
Read the chapters which once touched;
entwined our souls, made you smile
another lifetime it was, a work of fiction

Long night holds on, she is a friend
fogged windows demand an end
to the story, waiting for the sun
afraid of the light, we run
and hide within ourselves.

We try to talk, we don't understand
empty hope fills up the land
We again try to swim past the 'past'
"Are we strangers again?" She asked
Fragile dreams my love, they don't last.

Stairs are self imploding, dance and swing
Hand in hand, we walk towards it and sing
House of cards is going down, so are we
These were good times, she said
Kiss and bid me farewell,
Without you, it would have been a waste of time.

Brain Ooze Pt.4

Desire or want, the most primal and unbridled yet neurologically built feeling. I'm not lucid very often, there is always ambiguity and complications involved in my thought process. I always look out for the voice of clarity that wheedles me out of the spiralling puzzle but for once let me go out on a single foot and define desire and want as seperate units. Although as I write this, I lie in a sea of contradictions but for this one time I'm going to write what feels right.

Want is free from any influence in it's core, it is something that is unique and rare singularly at once. It is an unknown bit which gradually offshoots its colours, it can leave us puzzled, shocked, sometimes ecstatic but never sure and that makes us all fickle beings. It can be spiritual in the broader sense of term, more psychomatic, something for which the minute tissues in your organs are striving for, an unknown carrot dangling in front of our mule's body to keep it going. Want is as real and closer to truth as the bodily fluids, it makes us realize who we are. It is our becoming. Once we let ourselves completely immerse in it, there is no stopping the bird in us. I guess birds were created so we can stay inspired.

Desire's corners lie on the extreme ends of all the spectrums. In my honest opinion I find desires to be manipulated, influenced by external sources. They are almost materialistic needs we crave to make us feel no less than the others. Desire may mould us but that form is deformed, that is not who we are but who we perceive us to be according to the world. The inception of desire is not as pure as our wants because it can be inseminated in us, it is not visceral, not present inside our souls.

A sports car , a musician's dream, to hold hands, to write a story, to have an ear to speak to, to listen, rape, lust, love, a doors poster signed by Morrison, search for the invisible truth, innards of her heart and brain, all of these are cardinal elements. I want someone to distinguish the wants and desire. Clarity hold me in your arms and break my neck.