I need to be, I need to try, I need to have, I need to do,
more, more, more, just,
alive. often. air. more.

Blockage,
At my age,
Is sad.
No flow,
I know,
I had,
For so long,
Was wrong,
And mad
With thoughts,
And lots
Of guilt, and add
To that,
The gnat,
Inside my brain.

****** words are not attractive,
Their charm invisible, misplaced.
Covered in red plasma,
Concealed, unseen, unpleasant.
****** words, of ****** days,
Are put to rest.

Some days I wander,
Others I don’t.
Some days I wonder,
Others I haunt,
Me.
Still, some days I wander,
Others I swirl.
Some days I wonder,
Others I curl,
Inside,
And hide,
From me.

It is heavy, the brick,
With another on top,
And a third,
Forth,
Stacked in a *****.
Weighing down, razing my heart.
Squeezing all blood and life out.
Killing joy, extinguishing air.
Bruising, abusing,
Crumbling prayer.
Where will it quit,
This tower of pain?
Will it before or after,
I go insane?

Pale sunshine yellow,
Fine, gentle, brush strokes,
Coating cold, hard bars.
It’s bright and summery.
Glowing warmth.
In between the shadowed lines.
Crispy breeze scattering grassy scents.
Dandelions seep bouquets.
Beyond my airless, noxious cell.

A rotting, wasted putrid mass,
Underneath the pastured grass.
Steaming stench of oozing bile,
Wrapped in unbelievable smile.