kiss the crook.

My mind's an intricate honeycomb.
Each capsule is covered with veils, glass windows, crystals, mirrors and mold.
Within these complex cubbies of my subconscious lie the things left unsaid –
words weighed down with a scent of honesty.

Phrases that bleed brash lust.
Proclamations that could make men produce a scarlet blush.
… But that is simply the crystallized capsule.
Pains and posies plaguing my moss covered room.
Sweeping. Infecting. Haunting.
Yet, this cubicle’s irrelevant – it’s hardly as daunting.

The big pimpin’, essential part of my mind -
The penthouse capsule that houses inner peace
Tiling made of joy and acumen made me glad to sign the lease.
Candy coated contentment and confidence-
The same room in my mind hosting common sense.

My honeycomb mind. Combing through my sweet & sticky mind.