Make me feel
Beyond my measure.
Pierce the brittle stone
I refuse to surrender.

Crumbling as the surge
Pushes against the levee.
Knees cracking, spine snapping
Bowing beneath the pressure.

A tiny *****
Just enough to feel
enough to breathe
And hear my own gasp rattle.

Strength and weakness
Gun powder and snow
Grief and mourning
The grip of twisted souls.

The feeling of hands
I should have never known.
The lack of love
under which I could have grown.

Treasured life flushed down a pipe
Lewd acts in the day instead of night.
Paying the bills one ****** at a time
But they're never mine.

Jealousy and rage
Dancing with my own darkness
A complicated waltz
As death patiently watches.

Bleed out the pain
Only for it to fill me once more.
Snort it away
Coming down is always so hard.

Cling to the veil
The concrete protection
Afraid to break it away
And succumb to divine destruction.

Cradling and pacifying,
A gift for enabling narcissism,
Wiping tears and standing strong
Even as the bellows break my spirit.

Never rising
Without repercussions,
Manipulations and invalidations,
Demands for constant zombification.

Fingers inching for cherished blades
Obedience taste bitter.
I should have learned to be docile,
To know when to wither.

Instead I was born with poison
Pumping through my veins,
Chaos in my brain,
And wear wrath as a crown.

Do they see the insanity
hidden in my eyes?
Does instability consume their brain
the way it does mine?

I won't put the gun in my mouth,
I don't care how a bullet might taste.
I'd put it to my head,
that's where the problems play.

I can't pull the knife across my wrists,
I'd become enamored by the red.
I won't plunge the blade into my chest,
my heart is my son's, always his.

But I need to escape my head.
I can't continue just to exist,
detached but for moments.
there's no drug capable of healing
     this.

Lifeless fire and smoldering embers
in her eyes of unborn moons.
Hair that tumbles and strangles,
rolling in whispers of thunder.

Crawl into her mouth
so she can swallow you whole.
Pray that you sink
into her inky soul.

Withering to ash
in the echo of her laugh,
grateful you ever lived
wrapped in her wrath.

Rest between her lips,
dying for a kiss.
Give her it all,
weeping in bliss.

Slipping into the inky black well.
The fanged darkness,
my cherished abyss.
I never know
if I'll come back up.
I do know
That I don't care.
Some call it madness.
I call it Home.