I

Am a wolf

That is all
I
can be

All
I
choose to be

I
Is right
For me

Find me a place
To sit in the sun

Look to me then

With the world
I am one

Moving
Doing nothing

Laundry
Dishes
Counters
Showers

Doing nothing
Soon to be doing something

Listening
Seeing
Writing
Guitar

A slow moving bullet
Touches the pale skin
Stretched across my skull

Moving ever slower
As it comes closer
I can feel its pressure

Today
Just touching the skin

Next week
I will feel it within

Until thursday
When it's finally gone

Only to return again

I write
All these words

Emotion coloured ink
Life size paper
Pineal gland pen

Stew them together
In such a way
It forms a key

Releasing the real me

Work
**** work
Not the act
But the place

Work
Working towards something better
Is a priority over many things
But never over personal well being

Except today
Im sick
And we are busy

I would not enjoy
A sickly furnace man
In my house

The look of the face
Of a man I want to end

Let your energy ascend

Yelling at your wife
Questioning my ability
Not one gentle bone
Lies behind your whithered skin

You're a fool
To be so bitter

I await the day you leave