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cuteskt

@cuteskt

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346 interstate miles Stand between This Second fiddle And its Orchestral resonance The Numbing Medicating Allure of the Depths of Depravity The petrol tinged wafts of Re-rocked Andean-derived Nasal decongestant Pedaled by Mal-intentioned Pushers Past Their Prime Salivating as I enter Dive bar After Dive bar Plagued by survivors guilt As I number the tragedies In this comedy we Overvalue Over-analyze Over indulge The comedy Colloquially referred to As Our tragic Invisibility Often blinded By my own Positionality I submit to Willful ignorance Only to will my self Insignificant Hallowed Are the Hallucinations We deem talismans Hallowed Are the fallen angels And false prophets We yearn to serve taken in Hell on Earth by @cuteskt
5
10 months ago
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On the precipice Of Mahogany and Burgundy My eyes Dangle from Privately maintained Electrified cable Like discarded Basketball shoes Lifeless Free falling Into the fallacy Of fantasy Forced into flight Left with the lingering Miasma of What was once Ambrosial I’ve been down To countless Suburban Arenas Recently To fight the bull To fight myself It was de riguer To be Performative In Being Nonchalant Cut like adulterant Added to mystic Powders For Profit margin Diminished powers Course through my Collapsed veins Salted wounds taste of Farm-raised Branzino Braised is the carbon monoxide I gasp Electrolytes cascade From tear ducts Built to spill by @cuteskt
0
10 months ago
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Stale cigarette stench Upper lip subsumed Desperate inhales Of fading Egyptian musk Bestowed upon my wrist A fragile place holder Of her nonverbal Grace Salinity Had filled earlier seascapes That would have us Under dissociative distress In coastal towns Named after Saints and ports Every stolen glance And Cheshire grin Time frozen, transgressions forgiven Brief fleeting moments Of Celestial Ethereal Elsewhere Commandeered by The eyes of this stranger Her hand-rolled second-hand smoke The warmth of a Carolinian sun Struck by the barbed Bow and arrow Of a tattooed cherub Who bottles and drinks The tears of those we yearn for And as I scan for her in vain In crowds I know she isn’t in I seethe listlessly Anchored in the angst of being apart. excerpt from << “GROUND SCORE” >> v.1, issue 2 by @cuteskt
5
a year ago
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