Hey all,

Not much to say about this one. Trying to channel some of my negative energy.

It’s just a 10-minute job I wanted to write after a crappy day, and a decent stint planning out my novel.

Maybe I am just tired.

Enjoy?

Richard

Blistering Heat

The mask is cracking.
Ideology I’ve backed smacks of
irony. The inconsistency,
futile resistance of the pain
persists in me.
Devilish names speed ’round
my head with blistering speed;
blistering heat. A
neat feat beneath me.

I can’t help the spirals,
the trials that makes the world
cry.
Or maybe it’s just a style of collapse
that I hold desperately, while
I ball-up on the tiles, hold
her for a while,
and pretend it’s all gone for
now.

Never ceasing, a diseased
mind is mine. Held tenderly
for a time, and dashed against
the wall, deceased.

The mask is cracking.

And all I can do is smile.