Me, myself, I
The car, road, and open sky. Bliss.

Old woman, what is it like
To decay before you die,
Trapped between two stainless steel bars?
I think I know the feeling.
Waiting patiently on the street-side corner
With a crone's misery on your face
To be picked up in the cold
And be taken, inevitably,
To the morgue

You keep me up at night
With your "I don't care," unaware stare
and the words thrown at me
To the wall
Now broken ceramic pieces
On the floor

i am completely destroyed
by your love
that brings me to my knees
crying from the shock
of brilliant light bleaching my vision
with the means
at any expense
my world would be yours

and it is

do you know the way you move me
like a steady wind rippling a sail
like shallow waves
how every time your around
my face softens
and my lungs breath easy
in
and out the sweetest scents
and my heart is cupped by your hands
and held before me
its wires and chords running
swiftly to all my body

do you realize what goes on behind my eyes
or how consistently stumble over myself as you watch
have you realized that i would that you had
the superior quality
the very best
and i will make it so

My father never told me
To "just be myself"
To "search first for my wealth"
To  "seek ye first the Kingdom
Or quench the fires in hell"

Just one thing instilled in these,
My randomly pulsating crevasses
The sacks now in my chest,
The ever-beating evidence,
With everything I feel
And everything I believe in
Regardless the time or season,
Or the countless cries and pleas for remorse:
That I would know the course

Stay ahead

But now I see within me
I'm breeding with pride and envy
And the sickness is a symptom
Of what makes me feel empty

I'm tired of situations
Calling for analyzation
And heartfelt anticipation
Of other standing ovations
For the things I see are breaking

In here

I'm caged by the guilt I have laid
At the feet of the people I've played
And those I've used as supports
(They caught their heart in the door)
Unaware of what's in store for them

They couldn't see into my eyes,
The disguise through which I try
To hide all my ghosts and why's
And all the things kept inside in order to

Stay ahead

The needy, greedy child with eyes for the spotlight
With emotions bigger, even, than his head
And the same mud blood, barely red
Just like his father's
Who's always "just fine" and says "don't even bother"
Because "today, everything is going my way."

my poetry’s gotten darker
my heart harder
my eyes colder
my hands callus

my years have grown shorter
and my mind bolder
but all for the sake of weeping
the gnashing of teeth on a rock
and the bashing of my head on yours
again and again

i must have fallen on bad times, i’m writing again
this feeling in my gut tells me so
i’m feeling poetic, like before
i can only pray for what’s in store for me
i can only guess it’s bad

that feeling, like you know your body’s breaking
you can’t stop your aching heart
you’re being torn apart by each ligament
and all you can do is leak

my poems feel numb again
my heart bleeds blue
and somehow I feel I’m different
my poems don’t shine
they’re dull and dead
and filled with spite
and that frightens the **** out of me