C-a-g-e-s spell disaster

Supremely naive was i,
to believe i could free myself
from whatever fate had allowed for me.
But amidst all the turmoil
and confusion of locked doors
I managed to finally understand the
intoxicatingly familiar taste of liberation.
No physical release,
but the mental and emotional situation of these.
I just had to drown myself for a bit.

Tell me the instance...

...when you arrive.
Wait! Was that something you forgot to say?
Was I a fool to believe you'd never turn away?
I cannot believe this is something real.
I cannot understand the impersonal nature of this.
I've felt alone
when I refused to infer this emotion.
I'm not your mock child,
Neither am I your whipping boy.
float away in your 24 foot rig,
act as though this is a simple misunderstanding
and you're not here to understand me.
It's okay, I'm prone to accept these casual inflictions
of apathy on my consciousness.
Can you tell me how to react?
Can you explain how this works on my overall ethic?
You realize I'm your little mirror,
A reflection of your casual glances westward where I am dying.
You have every right to inspire me,
and to drive me.
So much used potential,
so much wasted kinetic.
It's okay, I'll deliver this anger with humility.

I've suddenly forgotten what it feels like to touch, taste, see, smell, and hear. Doors are closing in on me.

Elusively

Fix your eyes with a gaze.
Fallen in love and out with passion.
I see you
you see me
What's it like to please?
You'll never know what I'm thinking,
or read what your seeing.
The smell of my satisfaction
in figuring out your evil ways,
has me itching to know more.
I've second guessed your absolution
and gotten myself mixed up at the punch.
The desire is easy,
simple and sleazy.
The penetration is hard
and daring.
Give me a reason to keep my head on
and fire up my convictions.
Convince me I'm in the game
with you as the prize,
at least in my eyes.
I love this part.

Unsung

Oh the Low moans and Groans
the heaving sighs of highs
the dripping juice of my longing
to feel you grasp my thighs.
A proposition as means to obsession,
end my thirst as long as you like.
Settle the probation in my eager being.
Speak slowly to my speedy body,
bay wisdoms of being to me,
so I may see
the frenetic nature in which you need.
So much not said in which to confide.

He'd make a lovely heroin addict.

Sometimes, i forget to breathe.
And then it feels like I'm born again when i inhale.
Perhaps it's life's day to day reminder of death.

I'm obliviated and obliterated.
I want to be ravished by a principle unbeknownst to me,
stealing my conscience so rapidly,
as to let wisdom flow from my teeth sensually.

Fuck with the stars.

Pain strikes my lower registry. I am in dire need of a love so understated, that even my gargantuan mouth couldn't break its bond. I've only got until I completely give up on the possibility of finding anyone attractive.

More certain than not.

Our thoughts connect our dreams
dreaming leads to things unseen
seeing leads to variable sight
things that might set our wings to flight.
Your mind ripens to opulent spring
and in the meadows, flowers bring
the fruitful returns of all you bear
so nestled within the fragrant air.
So heavily was thrown in darkest night
the matrix of flowers in splendid light;
that you forgot your troubles in simple thought
and picked up the hopes in you I brought.
Turbulent tornadoes, and fears gone past
never meant to persistently last.
Forget your foibles and petulant fear
and remember your blessings far and near.
-Sigma

(a poem I wrote for a friend)