Send a perfect realm
To save
Washing away cain-laced pain
Help to deglorify the Holy Grave;
far away from today.
Train plowing forward
my brain pushed toward it.
Stretched on by wit
 that will not fail in darkest hour.
Won’t submit 2 negativity and the way it overpowers.
And I sit and write this
thinking deep in hurt & happiness,
Sweet Laughs & Sin.
Degeneration of the past days (are)
for the better of the resurrection’s burst.
The burst burns
skin on broken bracelets
clasping tightly around tattooed soul.
It’s flowing faster then false adrenaline…
Aftereffects force moisture application.
‘Won’t let her give up
she hasn’t tasted life yet
tears wasted on inverted tests; forced.
What do you take me for?
I have seen the rock bottom of bathroom floors
giving myself in whole, wither ready…
Ink flowing, or not.
Frustration penetrates any  open wounds,
in the loss to articulate the thought beating in the
confines of your mind

Help set it free!
You can, regardless if, in that, you believe!
Look,
coldness is fueled up with warmth of care,
and positive words stick to your mentality’s ribs
and stay there, to drive the wheel
in hopes to heal your Emotion’s Divide,
which draws lines that hide the REAL.
With Smelling Salts, Smoke, and Rosemary…
Reviving beautiful theory.
Who transplanted ideas of writing fast?!
‘Only thing that’s needed is your thought.
Think about the pen-stroke last!
Throwing salt in the wounds that opened in me,
stings against cells that allow dreams to live before
the body leaves.
Look @ the way we act when confused with
“Clique celebrity” and values false prophets have said…
And soldiers have bled for me…To relish in
Government’s false fallacies?
Some secrets are spit out with fashionable lock & key
masked in the magnitude of being blinded in eyeliner
and unable 2 see.
Smear it across, like the culture; goth.
True definition? Lost
warped as it’s touched on by the culture; pop.
A poet, blonde in the ambition to shoot out depth
like endless magazines of ammunition…
Until all the clips drop and harmony comes to fruition!
Salty and squinted eyes, like red-washed orbs of
a life in fight.
In the midst of the battle,
collapse only on your own conditions & by your own will
I can’t let you stay strapped in, on firing lines, folded blind.

You’re too good  2 eat so much darkness.
“Here’s a lighter…SPARK IT!”
Brighten things up, with the light that could
be catching and incinerating your strife, right as I write!
It makes life okay.
Darkness does not.
Iced up and hot, the light soothes the life
just like you
to dance at the fired shots and be content to hop.
…Able to fix all that, in time.
Separated away and left on heels
spine-tinglingly real
exciting
Collisions of white & black, melting into shreds of
metaphor.
So Happy and Alive
able to stand…
It is you, to take this  hand.
Pills 2 pop in prescription?
it’s not worth the high, to drop
I don’t want your body 2 die
need you here , Alive
a gift, to just see in your eyes
that, in itself, is enough of a high!  
Like artistry, crafted and ripped
train’s head-on collision, to speak Truth, in pure oxygen
NIRVANA…and CheeseRoxMyWrld again
though, I don’t understand the love for rubber bands…
‘Found my friends…They’re over read.
Now…Feel love enough, to birth your version of “THIS”
whatever “IT” is.  Make the noise!!!
Everything beautiful, all in your eyes: Poetic Existence.
For the better… Living to drip  your colors onto the body of everything touched. Make your mark. Emotion’s chord, struck!

Mike O’Toole