By Aaron Brammeier To My Friend and Brother Jacob Atchley, and my new family The Church at Martinsburg shoes grazed the carpeted floor as I walked into a room where musical notes and voices of worship sped through the air crashing against the wall that separates us from Heaven something I thought no longer existed - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - my dormant heart 19 years...
Running After The Moon
I traced your curves in the moonlight shedding its penitential memories onto the sheets retina’s vibrated and collapsed as my dry lips reached forward alcohol steamed from my pores wondering if dreams could tell me the things I never could imagine in memory warm lips leached the cold from the nerves in my spine and ducts closed themselves off until my heart wrapped its clever...
Gaze at stars through lines traced upon the black canvas feeling alone, without rest finding nothing but vast emptiness as words hover into still fog of peculier noxious desire unimportant, like the grass trodden underfoot lay kisses of delight, as crumbs fall from gastric stomachs cities fell like pillars of dust we are unmade numbers crammed into white pages of souls figuring out the...
slap the fuck big blonde bimbo no talk, no speak degrade our moving mouths by silence of painstaking indifference © Aaron Brammeier
conscious ghosts of white upon grey matter creasing out membrane into the floral acidity within the crushed grounds whose aroma screams warmth of blood level increase that hearts pumped wastful intoxication craving the necks of ropes who stretch thoughts deep into our scaffold like patterns wondering if we could return to the sensation of war while droplets fell from the sky awakening...