Saturday, August 3, 2013

Words by Kiler Davenport

Your seeing as if stoned on stupid. Your taking all these words strung together by babbling fools and stringing them all up in a cool little necklace of empty space. Pulling them down as you run through your little fucked up filter.

Words coming into land from God knows where. What are these words but fragments of fragments? Mutilated grants and groans begging for attention. Do not greet them with a smile when they fall upon your lips. Do not spit them out as if you were old friends from high school.

These words, so called words, come mask and shrouded in the moment. They are fictions waiting to be read by the cultured mind. The mind of this new age. They hide behind confusion and pain. They suffer the agony of defeat. One million wars have they fought to cloud the minds of men everywhere upon this orb.

They run rampant across the sands of time like magnets they attract every piece of dirt and scum along this eternal path. Do not sit with them easy for they will consume you, chew you up, and make you pay to the fullest. Command them, order them, rebuild them, let them know that you are standing firm in the fact, wisdom and knowledge that they are only words.

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