Latest Posts by safiresyrup - Page 6

She is a glowing beauty, pink glass petals crack and refract aspects of different potentialities, an endless intermingling of what if realities reflected in a shimmering crystal flower in a jar in a fairytale that I tell myself.

-2023

I seem paranormal to you. it only hurts on days when I see your friends come passing by and I will talk like everything is alright but nothing good really comes out then it happens and their petty words turn to fable, all of the rumors that I heard come true a day or two later

-s's.

things don't have to make sense,

these layers of batter and words

bake warmly in my oven-like mind:

the place that nobody else can pry open.

my innocent deviation configured beneath lonely lampposts

and desert gold mines

things don't have to make sense to be blessed with them,

obsessed with them

I just try to take my mind off of

anything as far as my eyes can see

and submerse in literal fiction, transverse these monotone layers I wished upon and failed in. Live in this dreamscape. Live through the soft ache

-s's.

I'm tired of being paranormal to you.

-s's.

Dropping the Case Against You

raspy voice within a song

go ahead, take me away

and whereto, you would want to go

my witnesses are futile now that I fell into all this

my case is ruined

no need to testify now, I'll live inside your truth

A dive this way

In some way, at dusk, somehow tired, I entertain myself with you.

I remember your face almost vague  and a misty smile.

I hear a voice clear as crystal, but this is what is odd:

I see a window within a window. 

Oct 2023

pick the fruits of self-esteem

-s's.

your name is

I don't know your name and I shouldn't have guessed it

so long as the sunset comes 

eerie night and lemonade sun

devoid of hope and embraced in song

I shouldn't have to guess it

-s's.

the cartoons and the movies have no wide-eyed gazes to look back at them. no light of day to shine across the dusty screen. abandoned life, abandoned dreams. left lonely and hidden beyond care. what does it all mean. in this ghost town.

-s's.

My reservoir of regret that I carry where I go and it loves to pin me down when I have nothing else to hold

-s's.

Good to me

I stare into a space where I’ve outrun myself from

It feels too good, I feel it should be worse and less welcoming

but it is honey

engulfing me,

Above me, beneath me, is

a coat of faux fur, a distant melody, and somebody else's warm wish and stolen dream.

your face changes when you think of a memory

Crushed dearly beneath plush blanket, blue sounds awaken

I woke up, morning early brightness

touched the ground and touched my whole face

Cold and white mist enveloped the space within

walking into buildings armored in smells of fresh paper

Sitting softly low rising presence, I am to stay patient,

Wear the act, contract, observe, and write

-s.s.

get out of blood network

How long do you keep pumping them out of your blood through writing,

Only for them to loiter by your veins and come right back in?

a high up spaceship light blinking rudely at night

-you are.

I can twist what I see of you,

attach myself to

a detached empathy warfare life

my weapon of choice is a dream I can turn you into

you are a spaceship way up high

blinking rudely at night

you have chosen the path that I don’t understand

The path that I don’t understand

is the path held onto like crutches, you use when you wander through your world

adjust yourself successfully and call your new friends

Maybe it’s all an ego acid trip for me that I dreamt up, an ice cold witch brew breathed into

I always imagine up everything beloved

whatever trace you want to leave behind is made up from the little things you do

if I could burrow myself into whatever I want, what would I want, what would I want?

La Vie en Or

Words are singing

down along the lines

I know, I see them jump across the interstate bridge I see life for what it is

Sunset is lonely and its

teasing the rivers

I know, I see light laid on top of the farms

I see life for what it's not

de Dreamland (a soft war)

am I so soft and alone as they say that I am, in dreamland?

dream of an ugly diary, destined for the bin

seemed like a pretty thing, a life less full of sin

swinger of town

You swing lowland

 back to high 

Time and time again

unreal for a town that shies away

and prefers the curtains in the saloon not to sway.

Dust-covered;

you will blow it off

luster drives you where you want

Vanity moments

drink, “hello,” and on I wink to the mirror; golden bench, wasted glamor of a reflection, fuzzy distortion, sweet misfortune, lazy little vanity time to yourself.

Mouth-Shut

She wouldn’t mind if you didn't keep your

mouth shut

Poppies of your dreams start to sprout, marveling

She won’t even care

If you’ve nothing to spare

Don't be afraid.

Walt Whitman

Drink

from the poison bottle

sink

deeper into darkened depth

porcelain faucet

well kept kitchen

soft stench

portrait

baby smile

Snippet of Dreamland

they are catching

categories for me

and so do the people who know

they think that i am unseen

i embrace the impossible

they are everywhere

we are going to stay in dreamland

/I want.../(porcelain clash)/

I want to do what I used to do last

kept once, stored up, among the cupboard's real glass stash

(a porcelain clash)

must recover, carried to a glowing life bed

until the day

this day Summer resurrected from her grave Once again the wind sends the birds that dissolve into dust Sending thoughts northward This is the coldest tear you’ll ever shed Sparks rip your wells to puddles Stars fall on the floor When it starts happening You realize you don’t like it anymore