I Hate

How many of those words
That took form from your lips
Were devoured.

Deface my intent, please,
Since you
Have all the pieces,
Since I’m
Denied the right, please.

“Master nothing,
For nothing,
Will get you to places.”

While this love
Is dead,

I won’t listen.


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Noise

Secondary instances of trumpeting vertices squealing;
Following dictions of lasting underlying immanence.

Robbers spurting reasons, burr overtly, non-contextually;
Bobbing knobs curtly tossing into impenetrable frozen sheets.

Neatly disheveled performances, wrapped in prides
Of unmitigated brutality; how quaint: such delight.

A previous hour revisited, guiding unfolding why’s
To already perceived errs of expectant containers
Of slowly baked stories with imperceptible gibes
Folded at the cusp of unimpressed customs met.

Negated currencies by avoidance out of fear
From additional pressures of dualistic leers.

Unified expressions of “go fuck yourself.”
Of rifts willfully drained, inadvertently.

Sides?

Abundant alliterations acting as accusations
Are affronted as accommodations;
Baseless bitterness bear boorish
Benefactors bitten beyond boredom;
Countless cyclic circumferences
Confound calculated circumstances;
Deafening discontented drivel
Demand divergent dictations;
Embittered enraged eruptions
Endanger embrittled encumbrances;
Fiercely fervent forbearance’s
Fickly folding feeble furor;
Gaining garish glares governing
Grotesque garnished grievances;

Of human kind.

-Sabs-

Nearly Tangible

Cautiously noting the mind’s receding ebb,
Drawn tides start to analyse what could be baryonic
Baryogenesis. Nearly tangible composite matter, a
Caustic reminder of how mind controlled fingers left me daunted.
Entreaties written in order to salvage my newfound motif,
Envelope me in irrefutable mysterious nebulaic puff.
Extended exposure or optical filters inspire
Extricated colours of nuanced diaphora,
Commonly referred to as love. As descended
Euphoric waves disdainfully entertain the beguiled.

-Sabs-