I Bet You Solve Crosswords in Ink

Creative Voices

I bet you solve crosswords in ink.

I bet your ringed fingers harness the hallucinatory holograms high in the horizons.

I bet your labyrinthine paranoia pixelates mirages of your nihilistic needs.

I bet you love until your nails carve their epitaphs into the scarred marble of your sink.

I bet you dream deliriums of hands buried in the graveyard of your scalp.

I bet your giving gives gardenias of gaslit gratitude between gasps of whores galore.

I bet you draw the crime scenes of your death in the fog of autumnal window shields.

I bet you laugh in lyrical crescendos that build into a faded whimper.

I bet your mascara drips in ashen tar over carpeted embers of your bedroom floor.

I bet you want whimsical wanderlusts within the dirges of your dwindling demise.

I bet you want a spinelessness in crypts dying in dungeons below.

I bet you mold murals bejeweled with shrines of your crestfallen suicidal chandeliers.

I bet your faithlessness fakes furnished façades fallible to your fornicating fealty.

I bet you stand at a precipice at every dawn, jumping down infinite peripheries.

I bet your bookshelves borne brilliant sparkling incense dust.

I bet your cinnamon scented candles smoke crimson caffeinated carnage.

I bet you have directionless maps hidden in the cicatrices over your wrists.

I bet your blindness watches haunted hentai in midnight silence.

I bet you manifest the Andromedas to carve indentations into the corpses that cry within.

I bet your beliefs bribe becoming of happenstances into irrelevant hoaxes.

I bet you believe you have cancer; at least it would explain everything.

I bet you have indigo and amethyst scarves tightened into nooses inside mirrored wardrobes.

I bet you are a chameleon; shape-shifting into shapes that don’t fit anymore.

I bet you pinch your skin just to check if you’re still alive.

I bet you twist your mouth in disgust at delinquent reflections weeping.

I bet you sink into oceans with pockets full of pebbles for the panoramas to carry you away.

I bet your spotlights shatter into glistening glitter of ghastly ghosts.

I bet you die a million times before you discover a living that lives.

I bet you force fingers down your gullet for that absolution that absorbs your abnormalities.

I bet you would smash your skull into rearview mirrors just for a relic of redemption.

I bet you fantasize about cutting your chest open to discover a cavity where there is none.

I bet you stitch sinews of sardonic sadness into the septic safety of your heart.

I bet you lust in the celestial psychedelia of the moonlit canvas eclipsing your abandoned arc.

I bet you would give anything to stand over the bottomless abysmal abysses of your abdicating ask.

I bet you would take a step and welcome the deceptive damnation over that brink.

I bet you solve crosswords in ink.