Fauna of Addiction

Halnya Andri: pace around metal chairs, pale fire the irony here, is I've found no home to inspire caught in the melody, iron bends no century humming through my voice cold snap, bold choice: disfigure all options comparison carry me through onstacles but suddenly place them in my path the interrogation chamber, you strangers what does it read on beautiful faces plywood walls, built by my own aches and phases landscape changes, concrete mazes how am I still breathing, believing in dichotomy i am no one, at least respect my honesty distracted souls, sole purpose destruction dismantle the thoughts, that stoke discomfort why can't i believe you? my own reality deceitful, breathing creatures caught in vogue, i turn my phone on airplane mode in the malestrom of PKD's, I read ravenously disclosed prose, at war with gravity carve out my chest cavity, my biology my baggage, to shattered ragged river tragedies where is the calvary, when I say my name in empty chairs who cares what the battle be? there's an irish coffee waiting at the table i never thought it'd ve able to rattle me cattle branded, by your charity carry me downwardly fixated, spare me aid to dysfunction running in circles, embarassed by nothing at least i can feel something franco still won, harboring numbness no pasaran i carry on, in shameful functions the palm still ache, the flask still wet pounding on the body, for common sense im still hungry, gnawing at the surface mumble my purpose the circle broken, holding nothing meeting in silence, the slack-jaw poet can i survive with my empathy? empty chairs, addiction assembly lines never spoken, sacrifical moments isolated in grief, imprisoned in rememberance give me my severance we pass by each other, night trains caught in subliminal poetry, moon stains dead centuries, weaving blankets we hide in the shadows, to shallow to speak these rivers, paint elixirs; that we can't swallow models of growth, still unshattered i was supposed be gone, still a pawn to language languid vines, walking through anguish waking words, recycled ideology the symbology of potent monotony everything is flimsy, soaked in envy I bathed inside my own bitterness west of beauty, claw right through me im not alone in ignorance dancing with my arrogance what do you do, when all that's you is arbitrary? when the high-res photos, only harbor grief? when progression comes at the expense of harmony? what we have placed here is hardly me recycled time, through clogged arteries no hope found in artistry you can call me weak, i ought to be rust Phoenix in the heart of weeds ITSD: Last time through a mutt haze Ten seconds lose the eye of a hurricane Distant mutter guts yew on those ending ways Bit figure insult chatter on a crushed leg Lost lamb Saturn red in the tabloids Forgotten reader wanders through all the yellow voids Eyes and ears cowards cheer while Goliath fears the unalloyed Circle enclosed trite envoy annoyed by ranting head High bridge is pattern low conjure turret threads Flying venomous elements graded in shreds Tread carefully or dread the boring instead Cadaverine decaying in the house of barbed wires Throwing a fourth palm in tricking halves and blight fires Scorched tires Reticulated from when islands fed your plight desires A bitter taste of bombing in a sensation crazed Taipan deadlock imp grin shine right when dazed Tattoo forgone endurance slip slip deleted gazes My feather lacing mazes My border blazes like I’m made of razors Stand still like that harrow what comes what lingers Opium war called from the ledge with the fell limp zithers Ayahuasca withers Crackling bolts yelling what breaks one’s fingers