apparatus apparatus stories

lethious lovely hurt
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
why do i find divine in times i can’t define?


why do i find divine in times i can’t define?

the feels felt deep inside.

the clouds throughout my mind.

lustrous thoughts;

mountained fraught,

caught and brought

to torment oneself at night.

i feel,

when i gaze upon her eyes.

punctured structure,

waters rushed.

flooding my blood.

i feel,

her in my skin.

i feel,

her deep within.

an apple to a masculine man..

grabbed by hand and flattened to sand;

a poet to a strong woman.

take my soul but leave my pen,

let me write to relive again.

pain is our only real friend..

we live for the next chapter.

sins give us reason.

bored with chatter,

we crave disaster.

send me simple thrills.

points for a woman who can kill.

falling is finding definition,

how preposterous to assign it one.

for love isnt one,


or three.

love is different to every being.

a monument to be moved by hand,

the task set for man.

define what love is..

that’s been keeping me busy.

i won’t exhaust, this cause

ill be at loss.

but what it means to me?

that’ll keep you reading.

this safe but fleeting,

beating feeling.

this throb that’s clogged my jaw..

hell of a left hook.

if i may,

warps all tenacious

into kilted clay,

brittled bay,

returned to grain.

but what does it mean to may?


champion of the alone.

somber throne,

is to which i call my home.

to slay my isolation.

little breaks in the walls ive self barricaded in.

make me feel safe.

be my hideaway,

my secret place.

where i lay,

to rest

to spill.

all i need is space,

for memories to erase.

to remove my graven face,

poorly painted grace.

i need a break from the weight.

seeking aid,

job is paid.

to be at your dispose,

every wish and hope.

i live within the ink..

i beg, you mustn’t let me think.

one to have me speak.

virtueless tasks,

i do seek.

cooped up pain to communicate.

we know it rained ,

through the wet paves,

and the sound it makes.

a story of the sky,

noveled in each drop.

the tears i relay to you,

will display a lurid subplot..

intent i did not.

someone who cares,

enough to know me.

effort is showing.

its obvious,

i don’t need no glorious gaudiness.

it’s indeed a lot less laborious.

for me to reach euphoria?

what is wanted,

maybe a morpheus.

listen to my dreams..

beauty is in the sapience.

all every poet needs,

is an audience.

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