Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS on Pexels.com

Shake of the atrocities of a fucked off mind

these are never the thoughts I seek to find.

All eye’s peering and thinking and blinking

and all I wanna do is a little bit of winking.

Please..show me yours and i’ll show you mine

oh I know, I should wait till i’m drunk on wine!

I’m sorry, I forget the way to talk

and cannot find my thoughts.

If expressive language were a form of communication

then fuck me baby, would cause you elation.

Everything’s changed but the one at the start

and oh god do I know that you are so far.

Thoughts and ideas…take my hand

and show me that I can.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.

and suck

suck

suck.

Karen Hayward ©2015 Image via wordpress library

Cinders of yesterday thoughts

My thoughts would likely
set ablaze the page,
Perhaps best I let them fester
In silent implosions
dot to dot conclusions
and solid doubt
of realities illusions.
Delusions
My thoughts would likely
tear holes through
constellations
rip apart solar systems
Redesign the universe
and yet, would
surely quench this
burning thirst
A cure for perhaps
mothers tongue, a curse.
My thoughts
My thoughts
My thoughts would surely
set ablaze the page
Crimson flow,
nature’s rage
Not wrong not right
Blinded by terrors sight
upon my tongue then
I shall bite,
whilst quietly waiting
for the emptiness
of night.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words

Find me on MeWe

https://mewe.com/i/karenhayward