Poetry Corner From Malignant Vanilla

thought dreams


blinked eye

How pretty can you be
in a world so ugly?
it doesn't matter really
if it's what you believe.
How happy can you be
in a world that's just like me?
it doesn't care, really,
it just wants you to leave.
How faithful can you be
when you're so sick of me?
we're all pretending not to see


mourning memories

an ebondy glow
lifeless body parts draped over chairs
bloodless and numb
Calm words float from perfect lips
north winds slide up backs like a cold tongue
smoke entwines the listeners
as they fight for conversation
each word a touch of the brush of her art
each day a canvas
plain white til she rips the stitches
and lets me see again
why can i not speak of such things
why will you never know these thoughts
why do i always think of you
when i see this same ebony sky
and when i'm draped lifelessly over a chair
ugly and drunk
listening to old words
like cold wet pants
until i can't stand to ever hear it anymore
and i hate her for ripping the stitches
so she'll never know these thoughts
so she'll never know i'm thinking of her

theWing

A ride between the breeze,
to see them when they're silent.
Lost in thought of being alone
Slow droning seconds of needs
after years and years becomes philosophy.
An exploration of what we can see
with new machines becomes photography.
Do we even know, that which we claim to believe
Can these really be my thoughts that are haunting me
Are we content with what we're pretending to be
or are we merely playing for the fear of consequence
and suddenly the words leave me
and it feels like another ending