suffocated by the infernal screams of a distinct lack in human contact

the art of lies

i love you
be wasp storm

plain and cool
dull and fooled
art critics worry

please don't cut me off i have so much (more to give)
i guess you have your reasons
membranes of the soul
please do not step on the cracks

whole empty
wholey empty

evolution stopped by the emotional tie
audience consumer whore
poetry must stop

wandering in the place of anguish
where is my world?
your gaze bursts through my ribs and penetrates my very soul
into the hearts of darkness
look before it blinds you
listen before it deafens you
touch before it touches you
the king without a crown

ice palette

with or without
coming out?
staying in

comparing infinities
split them in two!
spare none

go back its too cold in here