Divinely Strange Comfort

These clouds, this wind,

My habits and mood swings,

Cigarettes and coffee,

Half-finished conversations,

Guarded hearts, tender connections,

Horror movies, memories,

Kissing in your parent’s basement.

October, yes another,

Let’s do nothing in October

But stay warm and witness death.

Nature wants to sleep.

I’m cold, but you’re warm.

Nevermind the ghosts,

They make the air more profound.

Encroaching sleep,

A pleasant sensation,

No better way to fall

In this moment.

Cold is coming

To swallow us up again.

This quiet anticipation

Makes a comfort, divinely strange.

Blissed

I’m saving for a life,

For the prospect of better moments

Outside of time wasted

On boredom, sleep, or pain.

Exposing every injury,

Exploring my faults and fears

To the very roots of consciousness

Proves essential to progress.

Dilemmas and desires cross

Like first-loves and jealous lust,

Eroding us internally

Until we bleed them out.

Our most blissed moments

Exist long enough to be missed,

As in, yearning for whole hearts

After they’ve been severed.

Perfection is ever sought,

Though most agree it’s impossible,

So we live for those moments

When we can’t feel any flaws.