I believe music is the tragedies o… micro-dosed to us. A chord change to minor ends with us crying, a picardy third

Around her neck Hangs an emerald line, Dotted with sun-facing flowers; Silky smooth, speaks her mind. This line brings this poet

Humanity is a tired, jaded, dirty face with bright

Crush my heart And take from me The very passion that is my soul; Rip it out And leave no doubt

I have that swipe keyboard on my phone where I draw a line between the letters to write the w… Sometimes, it mistakes the word

Lifeworld is wondrous full of possibilities endless in time theoretically

Yellow-green leaves lie still Upon the concrete ground. Cars are parked, People are sparse; It is the afternoon.

Smile at me you vixen, melt me and step your red stiletto in the puddle,

Progression or depression, it depends on the portends. But never regression.

I shot the president and he melted into a pool of ice cream. Yummy!

Bestow upon me wisdom So that I may forget it Once again.

The words, the hate Flies, no, spurts Out of your dull mind Faster than comprehension Allows you to filter,

Betwixt imagination And anxious reality You exist; A phantom. I hear you

This headache, these carpenters in my bedroom, pound my respite with no quarter. Just now, I need, despite the con…