drifting

on a world-weary ship
towards a new world
through restful waves
and violent, cresting tumbles
with a dying sun before me
that sinks beneath
the merciless edge of horizon

may I sting you?

hands oustretched
i pace and yell
exploding
as everything within
my locked chest
and stitched-up heart
comes spilling out
in a wrathful heave
leaving me stark
naked as a baby born
a buzzy bee
anxious for the spring

paranoia

just beyond a shambled labyrinth,
past rows of bloody, rusted spikes
adorned with decaying heads
of make-believe usurpers,
rests the dying body,
the anxious spirit,
of a once and powerful King of Nothing,
persisting in his empty reign
as life goes on without him