When your
heart beats
in a series of code
that your mind
has yet to
decipher
praise your gods
darling
for you're
evolving

His fists were paint brushes
The holes in the wall
Abstract art
His knuckles bruise as does his mind
Because that hole in the wall isn’t changing his life
Beauty in his pain
His thoughts thrown on the wall in a fit of rage
But those holes aren’t as deep as those in his mind
Filling with self hate
Regret
Dried paint
Lies.