I have eaten the apples from her eyes, picked the seeds, and left the core for the parasites. Parables beside me on this mission towards paradise. A pair of dice I roll awaiting my pretty ten, skip through the others, play it cool. Improvise, patience is key, this prison is placed to plant seeds. Leaving the seats empty; a good tool for impression. This session has ended. Lessons are learned, bridges are burned, visions are blinded, minds are mended, hearts are broken, but in the end the process repeats like the apple that fell off the tree.
Disconnected Dots
Bright Shadows, these light bulbs are my suns, I rotate around them hiding from the one. A blatant disguise of hatred black, I wonder about the stars alive in blanket cracks. Disconnected emotionally infected, casting the clouds, cradling needles from the needless, weaving the evil from the blinds, closing the peep holes of my mind. This time, and time again, the leaflets of paper sliver through the seams shining silver rays mimicking diamond streams. These white lies are my sins, they do not spin around me, For I, around them. I am not the spider, but the insect in the web. Helpless to fate, I begin to stray away towards the dead to disintegrate.
Author's Biography Note:
My name is Richie and I love to write. The best way to describe my poetry is experimental with no boundaries or borders. Unfortunately for my sake most editors are scared to get stuck out on a limb. I’m 25 years of age, was born in san Antonio, and began writing short stories and poems since I was about 19. I’ve lived most of my life in the great city of Phoenix, AZ.
