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Unhinged debauchery
Of the human condition,
Spills like smoke from a factory
Built on superstition.

The desolation of already dislocated
Dreams filled with isolation
Shattered glass futures, fated
To rot beneath a nation's damnation.

The contortion of society’s abortion,
Twisting in alleys with no recourse
Abandoned on streets, a public distortion,
A wound uncleaned at the moral source.

Brought on by human sadness and neglect,
By hunger in hearts no hand could detect.
Apathy rots where compassion once bled,
Hope chokes on prayers the rich never said.

The cold, callous nature of a quick death,
No last rites, no roses, no final breath.
Just a statistic scratched in concrete dust,
A body discarded by a system unjust.

The American dream is a nightmare now
And I’m running, running, don't ask how.
Each step I take, a scream held tight,
Fleeing daylight that burns like blight.

For my life, I run from the myth they sold,
From the polished lie and the blood gone cold.
And though I’m breathless, bruised, and torn,
At least I know I wasn’t born
To die in silence beneath their crown
I’ll set this dream on fire…
and watch it burn down.
I was hanging with a ****** who was trying to write a story
hands twitching like radio antennas tuned to the static of God.
Ashes in his coffee, bourbon in his IV,
saying, “The truth is somewhere between the lines and the lightning.”

Going for a full drive 7.
Odometer broken. Sanity optional. Helmet? What helmet?

I’m going for a lovely drive
through miles of dirt, darkness, and fire
where the road hums jazz in Morse code
and the sky is bleeding neon messages only the doomed can read.
Keep going! There is no edge only the myth of stopping!
Keep edging every inch!
Keep leaning off of every fringe!
We are ******* trapeze artists in a hurricane!

DRIVE! DRIVE! DRIVE!
Till the end!
TILL THE END!
Past time's broken jaw!
Through the rotted teeth of every NO you ever swallowed!

To the unforcertain limits
to the edge you can’t see because you’re already mid-air screaming:
“WHAT IF?!”
WHAT IF THE EDGE NEVER EXISTED?!
Drive off that cliff like it owes you money!
Like the world dares you not to!

We will never wonder
we will hijack the wonder, duct-tape it to the hood, and ride it blindfolded through the apocalypse!
We will always plunder
Plunder the sacred! Plunder the cursed!
Plunder the voices whispering through the vents!
Burn the rulebook and snort the ashes!

And when its burned and brutalized pages break open
it screams in colors you can't pronounce,
hues invented by dying stars,
dripping down the windshield like melted hieroglyphs.
We saw purple that tasted like regret
yellow that sobbed like your mother’s last voicemail.
Nothing was safe.
Every shade was a prophecy.

Deep in the mines of insanity, imagination, and creativity
where reality unzips itself and asks,
“You sure you wanna see what’s under this?”
I strive to live fully alive!
Spitfire soul, chrome tongue,
skull cracked open like a sunroof to the void,
yelling poems at the moon
while the tires scream hallelujah
and the headlights blink Morse code into the mouth of madness.
Book I – The Solitary Peak

In twilight’s hush, where moonlight weeps
And silence clings to crag and steep,
A man once fled from world below—
Johnny Kaufman, worn and slow.
He climbed to heights where winds forget,
To live alone, his soul reset.
The world had burned him, scarred and raw,
So here he stayed, apart from law.

Each night, a song would thread the air,
Not bird, nor wind, nor mortal prayer.
In language lost to ear and time,
It rang—a hymn, a mournful chime.
For three long nights it gently played,
A siren tune in twilight's shade.
And Johnny, though of trembling heart,
Felt drawn to where the echoes start.

But courage was not his to wield,
His past a grave he’d never sealed.
So cowardice became his shield—
Yet still the song refused to yield.
Till one dark hour, deep in dream,
The melody began to scream.
Not from the hills, nor from the breeze,
But from within his walls with ease.

He leapt from bed, a man half-dead,
With ghostly whispers in his head.
He tiptoed forth on creaking floor
And dared to near the kitchen door.
The singing paused—then rose anew,
A voice alone, but rich and true.
And through the door’s uncertain slit,
He saw the shape, unearthly lit.

A man—or thing—in form alone,
Ten feet tall, of flesh and bone.
Bald and bent, its head leaned out,
To sing into the night, devout.
But when John called—a meek “Hello?”—
The being let its true self show.
It bent backward with grace and spite,
Defying rules of man and night.

Its neck, a serpent's coil of bone,
Twisted round to claim its throne.
Its eyes met his through crack and door-
And Johnny saw himself no more.
The song returned in velvet tones,
That sank through flesh, to blood and bones.
He floated, numb, in colors strange,
In dreamlike peace that felt deranged.

But peace gave way to howling shrill,
A scream to test the strongest will.
He fought the dream, he slammed the door,
He barred it fast, but heard no more

Than banging fists and clawing dread—
A demon’s song inside his head.
He screamed, he cried, he bled, he broke,
And passed out cold beneath its yoke.

Book II – Echoes in the Flesh

At dawn he woke—no clothes, no pride,
With only ghosts to sit beside.
His body bare, his mind undone,
He feared the night had truly won.
Memories long locked away
Returned with dread to haunt the day:
The priest, the pain, his brother's fall,
The silence that had swallowed all.

Skyler, gone to rope and grief—
A life snuffed out beyond belief.
Their parents, offered coin to cope,
Had traded justice in for hope.
A wound like his, so deep, so wide,
Could never quite be pushed aside.
So Johnny, aging, frail and high,
Sought normalcy beneath the sky.

With **** and fruit he held his ground,
And wrote the things that spun around.
He vowed to leave the beast alone—
What good’s the truth when joy is gone?
Yet pain persists in phantom form,
Like winter’s chill that outlasts storm.
And every night the song returned,
And through his veins, illusion burned.

He watched the moon, he watched the hill,
He prayed to gods he couldn’t feel.
For answers, not to ease the past,
But just to know what he’d outlast.
Each time he heard the song’s refrain,
It brought him peace, then brought him pain.

Book III - The Baptism of the Unseen
Years had passed since chapel’s lie,
Where innocence was left to die.
He’d dreamt of space, of stars and flight,
But priests had turned his day to night.
He'd once lit candles with delight,
Now shadows swallowed every light.

One Sunday, as the pews did fill,
A trick replaced his gentle will.
A hooded man, a sudden blow,
A bag, a fall, and down below.
Strapped and bound in dungeon’s lair,
His breath met only soured air.
And from the dark a whisper crept—
A sermon vile, a vow unkept.

“John the Baptist, would you try—
To cleanse my soul before I die?”
The voice asked low, then nearer came,
And marked the boy with blood and shame.
A drip, a breath, a ***** of light—
Then violence wrapped in robes of white.
They took his flesh, they broke his form,
And left his soul a tattered storm.

The Church, in crimson clothed and veiled,
Paid the silence, justice failed.
Skyler chose to end the song,
And Johnny wandered lost and long.
But even trauma, sharp and wide,
Could not erase the man inside.

Book IV – The Song Returns

Now older, bent, with beard grown wild,
He watched each night like frightened child.
He laid his traps, he lit his flame,
He gave his torch a sacred name.
But on the eve the creature came,
It set the coop and fowl aflame.
The sky lit up with ash and red,
The song returned to raise the dead.

It lured him to the spring below,
Where waters steam and moonlight glows.
And there the beast did finally show—
Its voice now soft, and deathly low.
They danced, they fought, they clashed and fell,
And Johnny knew this song too well.

He ran, he cried, through brush and tree,
But still it sang its litany.
A hymn for pain, for wounds unhealed,
For truths that time cannot conceal.
The beast, the priest, the song, the flame—
All part and piece, all one in name.
Epilogue – The Last Note

So if you climb the mountain’s face,
And find that quiet, haunted place—
Beware the song that rides the night,
And never trust the pale moonlight.
For Johnny's tale is not yet done,
He walks the dusk, he shuns the sun.
His name, half-lost, is sung in fear:
“The man who heard the song too near.”

And still he waits, in torch’s glow,
For answers he may never know.
She dances on air like a leaf on the wind.
Galloping prancing and frolicking through the meadow of life
Gathering Daisy's and Posey's for bright days on the horizon
Wordless understandings and in sync motions
Forgoing a path through the rouble of my hearts ruins
Lying around like lioness lingering and longing for company of an equal.
First words brought entire intention to focus
I say things like I really enjoy your thoughts and perspectives
Because they're purely yours
For only you.
I cant believe in this isolation
I've found you.
Living in my mind forever one dream at a time.
You're lucky I've been prepared for you, I want you, I need you, I need it to be only us. My love and yours pressed up against one another with such passionate lips.
5d · 25
Crumpled
You left me behind
with my necklace
crumpled in a box,
a parting gift,
or quiet metaphor.

Once it gleamed,
a thing of grace
made delicate by time
and worn close to my heart.

But in your careless hands,
it twisted
knot by knot,
beauty undone
by what you couldn’t cherish.

I sat for hours,
fine tools trembling,
trying to unmake
the damage you left
a snarl of silver and sorrow.

Now it’s 1 a.m.,
and I’m unraveling too,
threading grief
through every loop of thought:

Was it you?
Was it me?
Did we both tug too hard
on something fragile?

Why did we choose
each other at all,
if neither of us
knew how to love gently?
She showed up
Like sunlight climbing the edge of dusk,
A promise I hoped for,
A sign I silently trusted would come.

At the first slit of light,
I felt reborn
Lifted from the depths of silent agony
Where shadows had made their home.

The crying child inside me hushed;
Eyes locked on a distant score,
Miles apart,
Yet never closer than before.

Her gaze met mine
A breach in the fabric of space and time,
Carried on doves' wings,
And placed, trembling, in my heart.

I can’t sing now
But I no longer weep.
My heart rejoices quietly.
The pain? It dims.
The sorrow? Disperses.
And I am reborn again and again.

As the sparrow soars
And the ram frolics with the lamb,
I chase your echo
Until my breath gives way.

Then, with my final gasp,
I sink into a forest of sleep
Still, silent,
Awaiting love’s gentle conceit:
That something fleeting
Can still be forever.
Pink lighter on the stair
How on earth did you get there?
Were you dropped mid sigh in a moment of despair,
Or left behind by someone seeking cleaner air?
You glint at me, pink and bare,
Daring me gently: Come over if you dare.

I loved you quickly, claimed you like treasure,
Cradled you close, imagined your pleasure.
Slowly I drained you, my flickering confessor
You grew smaller, lighter my smoky transgressor.
You gifted me fire, a quiet, steady glow,
And taught me what it means to be a little lighter,
with room to grow.
Hutto
May 29 · 31
THE REPLY
Lola Sparks May 29
I don’t know who hurt you,
but I can see the bruise behind your words.
They pulse like warning lights
and I want to understand,
even if you never let me close.

You speak of venom,
but I wonder
is it pain just trying to escape,
clumsy and loud
like a child crying in a language no one taught them?

Maybe I was softened,
not by privilege,
but by hope
the kind that still believes
people are more than the worst things they've done.

You call me a mask,
a hollow, a ruin
but ruins still hold echoes,
don’t they?
A kind of beauty in what's left standing.

If I’ve hurt you,
know it wasn’t my aim.
I never meant to twist anything.
I just wanted to be seen
the way sunlight sees through leaves
not perfectly, but honestly.

You don’t owe me sympathy,
and I won’t ask for your guilt.
But maybe, just maybe
we’re both stumbling
through different kinds of wreckage,
and neither of us knows how to build
without bleeding.
May 29 · 16
THE ECHO
Lola Sparks May 29
Who beat you?
Who broke you?
Did they shape you into this ruin of a person?
Were they reckless enough to hand you a voice?
As you dare to stand obstinate to the will of the world,
How did you manage to infect my day with your venom?
Has privilege soften you?
Or did you silently rot from the inside out?

You claim you're shattered,
That you're some relic of trauma
But the way you wield cruelty reveals the lie.
Your pain isn’t penance; it’s projection.
You speak fluent madness.
You manufacture grief
And parade it like some kind of twisted triumph.
You twist the words of the kind
Into scaffolding for your false self
A mask for the void where your soul should be.

Should I feel remorse?
Guilt? Regret?
I’d offer sympathy,
But there’s a chasm between empathy and letting someone
erase me
to validate the wreckage they’ve become.
May 10 · 57
Otherworldly
Lola Sparks May 10
Life is a cruel, cold,
and broken place
and still,
we are told to find ourselves within it.

But if you are not cruel,
not cold,
not broken
then what are you?

An oddity,
a rare bloom in frozen soil,
a strange and delicate thing
the world forgot how to make.

Not shaped from this earth,
but carved from some softer realm,
where kindness
is not a casualty,
but a calling.

And maybe
what makes you beautiful
is not just what you are,
but how impossible
you seem
in a world like this.
May 10 · 49
West Coast Reverie
Lola Sparks May 10
When I lie beside her,
my mind still drifts to you
a whisper in the dark,
a question I can't silence.

Your scent,
a ghost I chase in every room.
Your beauty
etched into me like scripture,
unfading,
unforgiving.

You unlock something in me
my pen bleeds truth
when you haunt my thoughts.
I write bare,
unarmored,
because of you.

No one else
makes me tremble
the way you do.

Sometimes,
the ache of missing you
burns into motion
I dream of my motorcycle
cutting through the salt air,
hugging the cliffs
from LA to Oregon,
just to collapse into the fire
we once called love.

But love like ours
is a wound,
and I wear the pain
like a patchwork of tears and scars,
empty and spent
but never free.
Dec 2024 · 78
My mom won’t see me
Lola Sparks Dec 2024
The woman I’ve fought so hard to be.
She looks through me like I’m not there,
Rejecting my truth with a cold, blank stare.

Her love feels distant, sharp as a knife,
Cutting away at my chosen life.
I reach for her, but her arms stay closed,
Her heart a door forever opposed.

Love me as I am—before it’s too late,
Before my voice drowns in the weight of hate.
See me whole, my body, my soul,
But instead, you cast me in a broken role.

A bird whose wings you clipped at the start,
A daughter unloved, breaking apart.
Fading and fractured, yet I still plea:
Mom, why can’t you just love me?
Lola Sparks Dec 2024
You’re alone in this gamble, a loaded mistake,
Unless their hand trembles for your heart’s sake.
Two barrels aligned, yours at them, theirs at you,
The weight of the risk feels painfully true.

But what if their chamber’s been empty all along?
Their promises hollow, their aim a cruel song?
You fired for forever, they fired for fun,
And now you’re abandoned, your love undone.

Saying “I love you” feels like cocking the hammer,
A gun pressed hard against your fragile amor.
Pull the trigger, and you’re either already dead,
Or walking the earth like a ghost instead.
Dec 2024 · 80
Imposters syndrome
Lola Sparks Dec 2024
I’m a liar, a cheat, a thief of truth,
Drowning slow in my wasted youth.
Feed me your pity, a hollow meal,
Fill my cup so I can feel.

Lay me down in my bed of deceit,
Let me burn where shame and sorrow meet.
Let you down, it’s all I do,
Despise me now—I’ve earned it too.

Preach your disappointment, carve it deep,
Discuss the promises I couldn’t keep.
I’m not a martyr, just a hollow plea,
A fraud, a ghost, who claims to be me.
Dec 2024 · 75
Alone, but not quiet.
Lola Sparks Dec 2024
You keep checking your phone so you don’t feel alone,
A glowing lifeline where shadows are shown.
In the silence, it buzzes, a flicker of light,
Breaking the stillness of your endless night.

You scroll through the faces, the voices, the threads,
Seeking connection in what’s left unsaid.
The screen holds a promise, a tether, a weight,
A digital mirror reflecting your fate.

But the warmth doesn’t linger, it fades too fast,
The comfort it offers is one that won’t last.
A fleeting illusion, a whispered refrain,
You reach out again, but it feels the same.

What do you seek in that luminous glow?
A friend, a purpose, a place to go?
The ache of your heart can’t be eased this way,
Yet still, you’ll refresh, hoping someone will stay.

So you keep checking your phone to make sure you’re not alone,
Building castles in pixels where seeds won’t be sown.
And maybe one day, when you put it down,
You’ll find the connection you’ve longed to be found.
Lola Sparks Feb 2023
The stars have grown cold, and the night is still.
Cosmic winds swirl, as the end of time nears.
Black holes reign, as matter disappears.
The universe fades, into emptiness and chill.

The light has grown dim, and the heat has declined.
All that was known, has been lost to the void.
No more explosions, no more stars deployed.
In this final phase, all is entwined.

No more life thrives, no more worlds to create.
The end of all things, has finally come.
The cycle of birth, and the cycle of sum.
The heat death, of the universe awaits.

Yet still we ponder, what happens after the end.
Is there a new dawn, or simply the dark?
What lies beyond, in the vastness of space and time's arc?
Only the emptiness, will remain as our friend.
Jan 2023 · 120
My own private eulogy.
Lola Sparks Jan 2023
Do you wish to condense my fire?
Put out my flame?
Smoother my ignition?
If that is so! Then please allow me to let you go!
Walk into my life the same way you leave.
In through the out door and out through the in.
Living in this brief moment of space and time, I finally have found myself
but it is too late, the night is dawn, and the die is cast into the flatness-eternity of space
I'm desperate for my own private eulogy, words given to you that nobody else will ever know
it show's me that my love is far deeper than the ground you'll go under
You want to know what I have to say, what is on my mind and in my heart.
Lola Sparks Jan 2023
I have led my ship to shore on a distant island
I'm lost in-land made up of darkness and lustful seas
with my sense of self diminished to dust
my ship is all that holds me
in the womb of the ocean
**** me into deep oblivion
blackout drunken disorder leads to sailor-on-sailor violence
a shot in the darkness, a bottomless barrel of shame
soot on the bottom of your shoe from the ashes
of the burning zoo
abord the ship of failures and nitwits
we are truly abandoned by god.
A metaphor for the state of the world.
Lola Sparks Aug 2021
My mind hath been stricken ill with your intoxicating spice
I still struggle to breathe as your gravity was crushing my life
I feel like I'm wearing a strangers skin,
I'm an anomaly to my kin.
Forever waiting, forging, lurking through unknown darkness
As the darkness grows I retreat into my personal ebbis
I scan the skies for an answer, why do I still search the night
Searching the great cosmos for a glimpse of her light
I have finally hit a wall, alone, scared, and embraced by nothingness.
Experience existential doubt before breakfast, checked off my to-do list.
Lola Sparks Sep 2019
I am a thistle
a single blade
blowing in the wind
feeling breezy and thin
cutting through the current
like a revolution against the sensation
I am free to grow until it's my time to go
and until then I say hello to my sweet long-time fellows'
blades we stand in the sun and in the rain against the tyranny of man's machine.
6:23 am, I guess this is a sign of the shinning hour shinning on through my words
Sep 2019 · 186
In the memories of old
Lola Sparks Sep 2019
I listened to her oh's and ah's
a hard life escaped my sight when she was right next to me
breathing the same air, I dared to declare, my love and an honest hearts epiphany
I caught myself focused intently on her supple curves around her waist
running my fingers along her thighs
letting my lips rest against her skin
I felt a pulse beating from within
these stimulations of touch began generating at least in my mind, visions of a distant time
it was in the memories of old, our love was buried
along with your touch, so warm and soft
It carried me along the river of sun beams we both sail.
Sep 2019 · 177
Death in a dust storm.
Lola Sparks Sep 2019
the dreary land is windswept by a gust from the west
the cloudy sky is a sign, an even braver wind is approaching
when the west met the east they sat down in a field and had a picnic
they feasted on the lives of the land dwellers
the feasted on the lives of livestock
then they feasted on each other until there was no more of either
and what sight I was to behold when the earth stopped shaking and the ground grew cold
I felt the winds of change
and they seemed to say
let go of previous past possessions and obsessions, the hardline connections to your past will weigh down your hourglass
revel in the memories but march up against the great meaningless hourglass
climb the hill
we cannot live in the past.
Aug 2019 · 122
Feline feeling fine
Lola Sparks Aug 2019
My furious love
how dashing you were when I caught sight of your might
how ferocious your prowl was on a night not clear
pouncing on your enemies like a game of hide and seek
your body was tough and your mind was lean
and yet, your love was pure, and your smile unique
my heart hasn't stopped beating for the source of your power
the gift that brought you to me in this late hour
the love I never knew better
the feeling of saying goodbye, hoping it never was forever
sweet memories fade, as my mind and hair turn gray
my love for you is still true, and your smile always makes me feel renewed.
His name was Bartleby.
Jan 2019 · 391
Complex coded crimes
Lola Sparks Jan 2019
An aversion to the complex conversation
a radical explanation of the common conversion direction with misplaced inspection
It's the sign of the benign revolution 
as a messenger of the end times, I make my plea
bring swiftly the ides of desolation end the conformity, end reprieve
the starvation and the political stagnation
with the eyes of a closed nation
nobody will flee to higher elevation
nobody with a clue will feel true emotion
nothing left to do but a clean brief motion
"Nobody deserves to feel"
but everybody wants to heal
the world has enough pain to suffocate the blue out of the sky
Dec 2018 · 185
Izzuez with clazzy trazh.
Lola Sparks Dec 2018
a golden balloon in the sewer has just as much value as the trash next to it. Its not who you are, but where you are that matters most to people
there aren't enough z's in the world to keep me in line with slime like the letter s.
Dec 2018 · 561
Going for a full drive 7
Lola Sparks Dec 2018
I'm going for a lovely drive through the miles of dirt, darkness, and fire.
keep going there is no edge as far as I am aware!
keep edging every inch
keep leaning off of every fringe
drive! drive! drive ! till the end! till the end!
the unforcertain limits! the unseen edge!
drive almost off a clif with words like what if?!
we will never wonder! we will always plunder!
deep in the mines of insanity, imagination, and creativity, I strive to live fully alive!
Dec 2018 · 448
Here's your lemons.
Lola Sparks Dec 2018
When life gives you a busted yoke,
make french toast.
It means if things don't go as you planned, work with what you've got until you make life sweeter. basically a revision of when life gives you lemons; except this really just happened to me and for that experince I am all the more wiser.
Nov 2018 · 337
Queztionz to azk my love
Lola Sparks Nov 2018
Does holding hands across the room still count?
Do you feel my pulse as I hold tightly to your ghost hand?
Does the pain of one heart break weigh enough to change a persons heart?
Can love be as powerful during the throws as it is in the soft but cold end?
If love's end feels as heavy as a mountain, is it worth it to push?
Are you helping yourself or hurting yourself?
How can you ever know which does which?
If I turn your mind into a window, will you gaze through it in bewilderment?
Can't you feel what I feel anymore?
Can being composed hurt more than having a complete breakdown?
Are my feelings not allowed?
Can I look into your eyes for once, and not cry?
The fireworks bursting in your eyes, made me feel alive.
You have the heart of a sunwarrior and the brain of an earth sage.
I hope this poem helps you on your way.
Oct 2018 · 955
C shell
Lola Sparks Oct 2018
You're like a shiny seashell that I found at the beach, You were glimmering in all the right ways, your light shimmered under the waves, you were absolute in your making, remarkable in your sinking, your color was so vibrant and brilliant your reflected light shined into astonishing dimensions of light, deep shades of multi-colored light hit the water that surrounded, down in your own depths as you lie under the waves of the ocean; you were still, you were purely beautiful.
Jul 2017 · 263
Paradise valley
Lola Sparks Jul 2017
I come from a place of melody and grace
A place where turtles can run
Where trees can fly
A place all mine
Come, join me sometime
End the vibrations
End the race
Life is to be enjoyed
Not over indulged with noise
I am a flower
In loves atmosphere
I flourish
I live here
I am no toursit
Jul 2017 · 258
Oil greed
Lola Sparks Jul 2017
Oil greed
Make earth bleed
Has a wide lead
Infront of the planet's need
To breathe
To be
Breathe me in
Clean my sin
Step away from our greed
The oil filling up your needs
Drowing the seas
Killing the leaves on the trees
Oil greed
It's a tainted seed
Jul 2017 · 285
Slow motion jumps
Lola Sparks Jul 2017
Humans jump in slow motion from one point to the next in such a cosmically quick rate our thoughts feelings and ideas begin not to matter as we are as insignificant as the jump from cavemen to modern scientists. On our human level that may seem servere, but on a grandeur view we are but blinks of life swirling on our axis of injustice and immorality
Poetry is subjective.
Lola Sparks Jul 2017
R.i.p. my lost queen of the stars
Break into my lungs foul being of time
Gravity is the anomaly that holds me
Forever I am king of my darkened space
Forever I am drinking in her cosmos energy
As beautiful colors spiral in and out of time
She is the center, the beginning to my end
I am her star dealer
She is my stardust inhaler
When we mix she sings of desire
Her voice is what gets me higher
Jul 2017 · 250
Trip love
Lola Sparks Jul 2017
As my love grew louder
My mind opened to the possibility of a new life.
My heart wants to keep singing
My brain wants to stop screaming
The implications of love are much more sincere
Than actual factual feelings on paper
Crying and screaming
Lying and stealing
breaks don't work
Legs don't start
I need to follow my heart
Jul 2017 · 385
My small flat world
Lola Sparks Jul 2017
My small flat world.
Good bye my small flat world
Im leaving you today
Im getting high in a beautiful way
Look at you
Down there
All a checkered out
You were calculatedly carved with a knife
Analytically flawless with high sight
I abhor your emptyness
Your vast desperateness
Begining to feel like a giant
In the clouds
Fee fye foo fum
I step on you ****
Break into my house
And tell me how to live
My life has soo much to give
To see you soo great
And feel nothing but hate
Makes me sad
Cause you werent so bad
My life could've been a curse
Im happy it wasnt worse
My mind is calming
My heart is numbing
Get me out of this metal state
I want freedom from my hate
Jul 2017 · 202
Mastered lovers
Lola Sparks Jul 2017
Satin sheets russled
My love is yours alone
We lay beside eachother
Hand and hand
Out of breath
We go again
Green and yellow
Blue skys hello
Hand and hand again
We are mastered lovers until the end

— The End —