Brittney Karasek

No closure.
No skies.
Everyone but me,
they're all able to cry.
...

You tore me apart.
broken, wounded, and alone;
I headed towards the sky.
The wind came before the sun.
...

Blinding.
Painful.
Warm.
Bright.
...

The lights were waving as we left.
Leaving the past behind and dancing into the future.
The night's cold air lingers on my skin,
chills me as we ascend.
...

I am black.
I am white.
I am completely transparent.
I am completely blank.
...

Dust clings to my eyelids,
insects dance on my broken nails.
A mouth half opened,
with once perfect teeth chipped and cracked,
...

...

I want to scream,
to leave,
but I can't.
I'm a coward.
...

I can feel the air changing.
The wind grows weak.
The sun sort of fades into the abstract;
it drifts into welcoming coldness.
...

hightimes
low fences

soft scent
...

I've lost my way.
There's nothing left of me.
I'm dependent.
I'm defending.
...

I am in need of a few things.
A necessity burning in my mind.
I am a seed of a few things.
I'm growing weeds you'll never find.
...

My depression here was great;
a mountain, devoured by the sun.

My feeling for you was fate;
...

I can see your eyes in the darkness.
I can see them in my sleep.
The ever beautiful contrast makes me weep.
...

you replace these diamond-ground holes.
buried so deep, growing diseases; weeds.
your bones, visible.
bleeding and melting.
...

we're not like the others.
we're are you're friends.
driving ourselves away from our own minds.
drive.
...

in the darkness
my skin unravels.
in the air.
rattle-snake call travels.
...

overwhelming sadness for loss of memories forgotten.
beauty hidden.
lost forever to the depths of blackness.
blackness encroaches my mind.
...

mechanical animals inspire in me.
the thought of space, and empty cold.
the doors and the lizard king himself,
bring in me a hope for the desert and the sun,
...

Feel the hollowness inside the dark,
what if all the truths you thought you knew,
were a decorated lie?
...