aumnamunamu-blog

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SMW

You’ve a golden heart, I subside within the abysmal crimes I’m in

[Why do I feel?]

You’ve a silver lining, I would turn to brass, & then wind whispers “you’re fine”

[I am what I’ve been]

Soaking in the rush of gusting blurs

Slips out a few of so many words

If I give, might I be seen?

Sure as vertebrates concern

Standing straight is what I have earned

Have I lost my skin?

You’ve such treasured parts, I’m silent to protect my offenses

[If only I could reveal]

This is a sunken ship, hard to believe the adventure persists

[Through my intentions to pillage & steal]

Croaking when the moon learns

Waxing & waning are parts of a turn

Rotation, the dance of a queen

Stroking the fire that burns

Touching again while it stirs

Always better through the eyes of a fiend

I miss you most

Don’t you say anything

I’ll be the coast

You be the sun & the moon & the waves

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Further from the edges 

Further from the trim

*shrug*

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Buck Shreck

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There was nothing like it, the day before yesterday

It shined like it made of drugs, fell in love & played

We never left one another, instead but visitation wasted

How can one say goodbye to that which never stays?

Filled with a dull kind of hatred, my heavy heartaches

Like a reflection showing somebody else's face

Some Vacation

My only guess is that my heart strings are strung out

Hungover every week & still I’ve always lacked a sound

Today felt just like the rest, drugs aren’t working now

My life expectancy is but a choice, Yawning at the crowd

Nothing is special & my mental stuck up in the clouds

Counting sheep until my tears fall from my cheeks, down

What Now?

My backup plan has many fewer dimensions

Of the seasons, discovered less regret in every investment

So many lost inside the self I’m now, not to mention

They’ve called upon omnipotence, they have requested

Intervention, some ascension, above all else - genuine impression

I’m unimpressed, unaffected, underwhelmed & unrepresented

What Now?

How can it be that all of us & ours repeat those self-defeating questions? As those that guide ‘I’ to ‘we’ & here I sit in my seat

Avoiding laughing inappropriately, weighed on a biased scale based on tea leaves, all outside us tries too hard to be, maybe

Something is just hard at work, but omnipotent beaks pecking at trash to build a nest from garbage tossed on the street

Maybe my only guess is flawed & I can only pretend that I’m ‘me’

Maybe the point of all these words contribute to that empty everything, what now that you’ve heard all the sounds that

Drive the cars to see the multitude of forks lain in the street, might you have but a guess? To reach what you feel, to feel

What you say & think, peeling skins of fruition to pale, disentigrate & live the life they must lead?

Need you now a twilight howl that takes a bow for steepened hallows that don’t know how to feel the

The ground beneath them, really, what now that you've lost your feet?

What Now?

It amazes me how easy it is to repeat myself with self-defeat, my blood feels lazy enough to stop my life-long bleeding, the gravity of pumping that bullshit keeps my heart rate decreasing, & it’s been beaten enough, but enough never prevailed itself & made enough a worthy season when I’m only freaking out to keep my wits about me & stew in the inevitable window I gaze through, although it’s bleak

Never blink, it goes by faster than you think, whatever you render absolutely obsolete will be what you admittedly agree is the very creep whose attraction solely relies on improbability, ties the noose around the very voice that you desire to speak indefinitely

What Now?

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My name is something like nothing new, another ready few to draw the bowstring and cupid style shoot arrows at stupids that could use any easy cue to move in useful directions, [I’m] stuck in a dimension that resembles cubism, but a complimentary stupor & sniper that lacks the hues of such pretentious views, instead of contrived blues, I pluck the plumages that formulate a fuselage with the will to crash into the tallest of many roofs (hi mom!) regret is my favorite color, wish I was new to this, yet the proof is in my loose lips, slut face of mine is fucking putrid, designed to teeter on the edge of putrefaction and holy fuck divine, I’m fine with my ruthless alignment along the stars, my constellations describe a few or more of booming stars, heavy-handed when I sign my letter of resignation, been self a prescribed biology with a[symptomatic] auto-destruction in mind, believe me when I say I’m fine, I’m alright, don’t you believe me?

My name is liar spelled backwards, say it all every time or defame my empires, chose sedation to relate to, marionette of taut wires that expire when dull fires turn themselves to embers, I’ll be impressed the day you hire yourself, explain your weary premise, fester & infect whatever elevation you desire, wish your desire had an endgame that could surmise your extravagant entrances & divide your awkward sentences, you may speak again when your credit relays the same ambiguity as your dead predecessors, fluidity over subject had always gotten the best of you, hadn’t you written letters to yourself? Welcome to hell, & usually  this kind of invitation helps, but that density has the weight to overcome itself, assumes its own degree in personality, yet that trophy has long collected dust on your highest shelf, speaking of high, you’re almost right now, I can feel your highbrow reach the apex of Himalayas, right the time down-

My name is one point six one eight, could say I’m  shaded by the curvature of a greatness, & I hate it, mostly though, I’m fascinated by the finite graces my conscious self has allowed, it’s no less than amazing, a sort of love-me-not I fade in & out of, I am aware of the sacred nature I can only subjectively name, while my objective fortification ratifies my own dignation, I’m acing the projected indignation of a boy who couldn’t tye his own laces, & sported velcrow to satiate the sensation of disgust amidst a horse beaten to death by me in my flacid attempt at some permanent vacation, my name is reconciliation, my name is painful enterprise, my title only can reprise my artificial sunrise, only moving clockwise to make sense of these snake eyes, my sympathetic junction had crashed me into dysfunction, I’m here to adhere my drunken lips, force a smile when I wave goodbye to the mothership, grabbing life by the hips, sipping at the fountain of youth with the hope enlisted for another kiss, because life was never a bitch, I’ve just been learning how to keep a woman interested, & we’ve been fucking long enough to hold mutual remiss

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S K R I L L

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Birthright

Who drank the water in the well?

There was so little water left

Now all that’s heard is a drip-drip drop

Into nothingness

Who stole the food from all the shops?

Surely the same who poisoned every precious crop

All that remains are scraps we were so ready

To feed the starving dogs

It’s still unsafe to breathe the air!

It’s not suggested one should live without a care

Your view has broadened from the chips along your shoulder

Just making sure that you’re aware

There’s no place to hide anymore

But don’t live in plain sight

Drilled from the middle to the shores

Our contributions only blight

Settled for security & allure

By sacrificing piece of mind

Bored by birthright

Who told the kids so many lies?

The same that cultured a lack of surprise

Beaten out of us by dim lights, we stare at them all night

Bored by birthright

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You & I both are so tired, dying in this heat

You & I both tied bricks up to each other's feet

Bricks We’d stolen from broken homes, it seems

God only knows why we thought this would work

& we dive into the deep end

Don’t blink

Just sink

With me into darkness

Blacker than ink

Don’t blink

What God doesn’t know can’t hurt us, so breathe

Keep as many secrets as you need to believe

We can build up some broken homes, trash them & leave

Leave ‘God’ in the backseat with windows rolled up

So she can die with us in this heat

Don’t blink

Just sink

With me into darkness

Blacker than ink

Don’t blink

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walking the cold woods

by Denny Bitte

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Morning Gifts from Fir Trees: Sunrise in Soda Butte Creek, Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming

by riverwindphotography, Aug. 26, 2017

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Nature is my favorite artist | charlottemorsing

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Splashing Green by (WanderingtheWorld)

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I miss my old tumblr

More I miss the life that came along with it.

I’m still just as fucked up

I only have this tumblr as a dream

Even if it all became true, I’d be so very guilty

Yet I hate everyone

Is it worse to live in fantasy

Or to live a lie?

What if both consist of lies?

Fuck I Miss Those Days

Why does it always feel bad?

Why does it always feel so bad?

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Untitled

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Andrew Ferez  -  http://25kartinok.com  -  http://25kartinok.blogspot.com.es  -  https://es-la.facebook.com/andrey.ferez  -  https://ello.co/ferez