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I haven’t had time to do much , the past few weeks. Today I had time to let out some angst in my old favorite form of words.


Literally just putting it here to clear it from my soul and purge.





He , watching her ways..tingling at the thought ,

of her.. hopeful yet forlorn.

She , tingling herself.. with rot.

Rot , ready to be shoveled clean , reborn.


He digs in her rot , intently and deeply..

Breathing the must inside her heart of dirt.

Unaware of the obsession..beginning discretely ,

Innate and primal , urges he cannot divert.


She revels in this perverted digging , coyly.

Drinking up his turmoil like sweet nectar,

the presence of he.. makes her mind condense.

The dead flower of his sick world , dark and oily.


The tears of his pained and sick devotion ,

her naive idea it could go on eternities.

Their poison desire.. causing inner plosion,

even death, never sufficing their insatiability.

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Something to remember in his soul, quaking.

A sweet mist of gentle sadness and delicacy,

the poison scent oh god how cruel, deceiving.

Candy coated venom , intrusive but elegantly.


Warning all of the hopeless who she encounters.

A concoction of desolation and odd pleasure,

a scent that infects, inhibition it overpowers.

How desperate, shameful they are, the dwellers.


Following scents, the dwellers do to an extant.

While the other searchers drift behind he hunts,

he follows as devoutly as if she were a tenet.

The wet hot aroma, all his demons it confronts.


Fragrances dissipating with time, the mist rises.

His search becoming more daunting, enraging,

how she is starting to become what he despises.

Take the prey, if you can find her ever changing.


Beginning to think he sees clearly again, fool.

Taking in the light aroma of what she is not,

the mist falls again and he drowns in that pool.

Gladly he does, and gives up all that he’s fought.


Unbeknownst he’s been thrown out of the water.

Hit, confused by her suffocation then absence,

he feels the poison set in like a known stalker.

Feeling her watch from her balcony, captious.


Left thirsty once again, the hunt re-emerges.

Finding no excitement without her sticky odor,

not understanding the animalistic, pitiful urges.

With his paper heart she plays, a diligent folder.


Dragging on until he can again take the venom.

Every time an ode to breath in more and deeper,

all breaking down as she becomes his phenom.

Enamored and addicted this rare breed seeker.


All of her wet, collected for him and confined.

He doesn’t realize the hunt will never cease,

and this is the deal for them both she defined.

The producer and consumer, living in peace.

Edited by DaddysMonkey
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For Tanner , my beloved best friend , soul mate and everything.



The Oak


He stands, planted firmly in ground of comfort.

Immovable but with gentle wind he flexes,

never truly changing with his roots in the dirt.

You see what oak could be, to him it perplexes.


Trying to strip him of his protective bark coating.

Oh but you could be softer, and transform for us,

tearing down his being to be worthy of gloating.

They ravage his bark without a chance to discuss.


They dismiss all that he provides us naturally.

His strength and resilience forever shadowed,

by them assuming that he does this absently.

Comfort he gives taken for granted as if owned.


He brings shade in the hell of blistering heat.

He gives safety being the oak that stands still,

for them it’s never enough so his soul they eat.

Ravaging the precious tree to a stump that’s ill.


A girl alone weeps for the oak in utter silence.

Appalled by the act of trying to change nature,

his bark turned to frivolous things with guidance.

So with this broken and beaten tree she wagers.


I’ll give you my tears as water, soul for growth.

Feeding the tree the appreciation he deserves,

together they balance out and make an oath.

She will speak for the oak, for her he observes.


Slowly and strongly, he always grows again.

Appreciating the oak she bathes in his shade,

warding off those with their axes of bane.

Being the oak he’s meant to be, no longer afraid.


The wind blows once more as she watches him.

He’s grown, and he bends with the gentle wind,

trying to force change will only make him dim.

Let the oak be, instead of changing it like a sin.

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  • 2 weeks later...




Seeing visions just like her daydreams ,

she lets her heart wander the possibilities.

Knowing that it’s never truly as it seems ,

unable to handle the coming hostilities.


Wiping her brittle mind clean like a whiteboard ,

only to have her dreams scribble new scenes.

Time with him is the only thing she will hoard ,

and she will lock the memories in by any means.


Torn apart by her wishful and aching heart ,

knowing in her mind that tie can’t be severed.

No matter what reality or her dreams impart ,

her pained love for him will not be weathered.


She cries with sickness to her glowing moon ,

being the only time she speaks her whole truth.

If she could say it out loud it would be too soon ,

will he still love her the same drained of youth.


After letting out all the tears she can produce ,

she slips into sleep seeing , feeling his soul.

His aura near her so thick it feels like a noose,

she can’t do without it making her feel whole.


Waking from rem feeling dazed and confused ,

the blurred lines all start to appear in sight.

She smiles at her aching heart loving abuse ,

staying till the end regardless of the plights.


Feeling his hand comfort her bleeding love ,

he says he’ll stay too also living in the blur.

Looking at this girls weeping eyes from above ,

they’ll be there together past whatever occurs.

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