Blood Bitch

A Boy With Roses

I walk through the park as it rains
Everything is the same, but everything is changing
And I don't feel like I used to feel
Self aware and indulgent  

In the name of lust, heartbroken and dancing
I get drunk and tell everyone I love them
Holding open doors for strangers
Pleats, accursed, Boccaccio, incognito
Psykter, vessel, mother of pearl 

Time, passing you, I listen each time
Inglorious phoenix, with your daddy issues 
And your alexithymia, picture us by the touchstone 
8 inches in the 69th hole 

Medulla, synthesised, that umbra haze
Brass tracks by your chromat aberration 

I lose myself in volatile worlds
Listening to cars taper off into silence
Voltaire daydreaming of wise words
Toxic love drowning my blood

I fuck myself so hard, I bleed
Blue cars, blue jacket, blue fantasy
Blue door by the pink rose bushes
On Addiwell Street
I follow the remnants of the moon
Romantica, grey friars, wearing leather gloves 
I say I don't care, but it doesn't matter anymore
One glimpse, I'm inadequate 
Check my eyelids, hear the football chants
Patrol sign, varnished gardens, just me, myself and I 
Reflecting at the Jasmine House. 

  • Author: Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 5th, 2024 16:04
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 8
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Comments +

Comments1

  • sorenbarrett

    Multi colored this poem is multifaceted. I weave in and out of understanding like a needle in fabric.



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