The algorithm of my past

Stone cold beauty like none other,

when my eyeballs bleed I see the secrets of color.

Life has a morbid way of showing it, but it just does.

I see it when I’m hushed.

Disciplined fangs; Obedience in the crave.

Desert lobsters burrow its brave.

Sharks on dry land walk right past us, and lizards without feet run the fastest.

But so are the beams of light that cradled me in the dark when I held my candle.

Thoughts that creepeth and crawl are put away forever.

The exodus of irrelevant minutes now march into its relevancy,

with the undoing of destructible calamity.

Rendering truth through the cobwebs of my sanity

and youth.

Like a cool refreshment in a mirage to the past.

Patting my old self on the back,

and saying, it’s all gonna be okay.

The algorithm in my head is like that of an insects sting;

Or the plastic part that shimmers brilliancy in a dragonflies wing.

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Authors note:

This is a poem I showcased in my Poem Workshop I am hosting in my Exclusive subscription. I have published a breakdown of this poem summarizing all of its hidden messages line by line.

In short, it’s a fun way to get to know me, and support my writing.

Thank you for reading