petals

.                    INCEST  It started in us a craving A worldly spire; from our little plays of extended family grace  developing by an inchmeal A crave in our childish naiveness to be amongst twisted comforts beneath our bed spread- uncanny and naked’ bemused by the warmth of an affection from television scenes replayed in imagery while exploring geographies; each on the other as the sun shone so bright to betray the powerful reflectiveness of the granite and so we were like the granites exposed in our firm- planted not on family cordiality but on items of our continuous explores we faced a strenuous refute; for we were seen in an atrocity of many forms and for most of it all: we were kin

Dark of the moon  …still falling down…no light at the end of the tunnel, I have been so down it looks like up to me, my very own perspective of being ahead; down in my shell of desolation, my comfort zone; sinking into the bitter drink of complacency, just because of a false dream and an over confident mind.   A mind that takes control of its own direction leading me into an unknown destination only to abandon me there to receive the retribution of its action…no salvation, no solace, just pain and regret; just looking up at the darkness of the moon