mantodea

December 30, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 6 Comments

childhood pink cocoon

transforms into pale ashes

now praying mantis

the four letter kit

October 25, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 3 Comments

mind your etiquette and dress you tarty mess alcoholic in wedding veil left to rot in obscurity behind SS Kress dumpster fiendish queen of violent dream three tours in the cardiac desert come home we’ve no passion for your kind that’s ok i take what i can get karma super bitch with pretty face we get what we deserve my mind is just a wasteland one step two step five step six look down at the sky while the air hits my feet swirling up blood drops on the cuff rational decisions are best served late into the night the bats are hiding near in the tall and ancient magnolia trees with falling fruits into the stream of all thought that crosses here insanity wears lace and stirs that flames of cold remorse of atomic fences way up on the hill hashtags for all reasons but what’s the use if we all like to market pain for glamour and enrichment and my teeth go down the drain

traumatic stress post disorder

August 25, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 13 Comments

the part that is peace within myself is a

tiny girl humming bird

here and there can’t stop for air

i’m not prepared to answer why

i can only sing at the bottom of my lungs

so high so high that no one can hear

the sky and the flowers don’t deserve another

song of sorrow and hurt to add to the menu

of those souls who are caged in their own

stories of struggle torture and pain

nor do i know when i will stop fluttering about

looking for somewhere to rest my thoughts and calm

my fears of getting caught in the nets

of monsters

orthopraxy 261

August 17, 2019August 16, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

containment is necessary if life is to be kept in the outskirts of ethical veils a true man is often deceiving to himself let the mirror lead us to the kneeling chamber pure blue get a clue im not in soft cookie scented pajamas anymore woman whore all the more follow that fellow he knows where to score and take a tissue for the blood ransacked of the floods of dignity dispelled in drought of love freedom the cosmetic side free of pungent primordial scent does not an anchor serve to preserve what we claim is precious fight snot nose kid get out if you don’t like it accident of lust and loss of mind what we want is not what we sought after hear the engines grind Chopin rings in the ear of what was innocent for only days and then the angels of carnality lead the way to where her wings allegorically to be ripped of the whipping back of martyrs run pretty momma go around shes ready gotcha little cunt face first chipped tooth kiss the feet of the Queen of Angels and the DAs assistant can scrape evidence from broken fingers after the appropriate forms have been signed