The throat choked by quotes from old poets
Grows dry and hoarse
Old words do that
Dusty and crusty
Musty and rusty

Soothe your throat with that
New style rap
And let your mind
Flap free from the
Constraints of tradition.

To close eyes
And let dreams reign
Fall into the future
Makes the next day
The next disappointment
The next pile of stress
Arrive.

It’s like this hole
Inside
Nothing physical
No wound or injury
Just this emptiness
Absence
It hurts worse than anything
And I’ve been injured
Broken bones and joints
Cuts, stabs, burns, shocks and all the like
But that wasn’t true pain
Just my brain relating events
Real pain is knowing a truth
Shown by countless smiles
Whispers and glances
You are alone.
You have been rejected
Not just once
But every single time.
That part of you meant to connect
Absent a connection.

At this point I hope for world’s end,
Given up on mending will’s bend,
Taking solace in thoughts of souls' rent.

I have little left, looking forward.
And much less looking backward.
Resilience stretches thin, inward.

Time for it to all burn.
It’s this world’s turn,
To submit to life’s wheel's churn.

Rotations and revolutions
Counting convolutions
Of causality and expression.

Time

When had it all gone wrong?
That young man full of song
So innocent
Full of bliss
Now broken
Alone, unmissed.

Such growth while away
Hardened in the fray
Searching for truth
Lost in fog
Groping at cliffs
Fingers failing
Losing grip.

“Push through the pain!”
They say, seeing his strain
He welcomes the sound
Full of ignorance
Now remade
All scars and endurance.

******* and *****
Triple slammed lips
Love and violence

Passion
But in my case
The desire
Is what matters.

Desire for blood
The need for moans under moonlight.

Give me a face to punch that isn’t my own
Give me a mind to **** that isn’t my own

Love
Violence
The things we men are bred for
Values and society and ****