A.P. Sweet

The moon makes love to the ocean and in this holy conception it gives birth to a little tide.

I spread my fingers outward, letting the knife tip of my middle finger rip the sky as it tares a rift in the moon.

I would give my lungs to the fish so that they may rise out of the water and feel the wind.

shall we dance into the perpetual torture of our union once more?

I cry as the laughter inside me drowns and descends into the water with the ghosts of our union.

My thoughts are with you all. Forever conscious of the vast, absurd universe and writing my eternal story I shall remain dead, but dreaming.

Then, only then would she realize that the life that she created will extinguish with nothing to offer but the sorrow that she harvested in our souls and the holes that she dug in our hearts.

A good student learns from his teacher. A great student learns to teach himself.

And if I consume another mortal__ flesh, will I like god before me, shit a million stars upon the naked, wretched sky?

at night i loved her at night i waited under the tarp at night i watched her looking up at the stars dreaming of a better time to watch me

Out here, the open night is my church, the trees are my congregation, the stars are my angels and the moon is the only god that I know.

Leave me to die a lonely death. An artist__ death. A writer__ playground. A painter__ background. A philosopher__ bread and butter.An endeavor that we all face. I just hope that I__ not the only one there.

And now that this body is gone and has been returned to the Earth, I assure everyone that psychic energy doesn__ die, it is recycled throughout the universe and will out live anything that we do as living beings. Flesh will decay, ideas won__ as long as you believe in them and someone believes in you.

Blood and wine are interchangeable. Love and hate are unrecognizable. Sanity is no longer with me.

Caress me sister wind and stop this hate.