There is something wrong with me,
something dark and lurking
made for hurting
the hearts of other
human beings;

A deeply fractured,
vision’s aperture
that sees
all of these
horrible things.

Slimy tendrils
crawling through
broken bits
of mirrors
I show to
all of you.

Wings of leather
made for flapping,
dark as the cosmos
thunder clapping,
and consuming
all the light that was moving
across this floating sphere.

Shadows and nightmares
worked from the scraps of
this horrendous reality
I see stretched out before me
on a torture rack of human cruelty.

I am certain I could be
the king of better artistry,
present lighter shades
of this reality,
but something deeply damaging
keeps pressing poetry
on modern technology
for the whole world to see
the fruits of my social anxiety.

The truth is
I got this
niceness
down pat;

But that
isn’t always
who I want
to be.

You see
I do well
in semi-polite
society,
but the
populace
is bothering me
with their
disease
of well earned
stupidity.

This city
is swollen with
a horde of
***** *****
who spout *******.

Pompous
polluters,
pigheaded
capitol looters
who take
take, take,
and take.

But
when
I try telling
other men
and women
about the
corruption
they deny
the filth
of the sty
they are
living in.

Despite,
how hard I try
to be the good guy
and inform them
of the
oncoming storm,
the waters
still rise
before the sheep
realize
that they are
in a flood.

I watch
the cost
of ignorance.
There find
my mind
is losing
patience
and fast behind
these strange time
my compassion
is barely hanging,
slowly changing
into to anger

The rage
is simmering,
swimming in
a soup of
discontent
to apathy,
and I am
about to
let go
of the last shreds
of my empathy.

You can have anxiety,
like temporary
insanity
of pulsing
nerves
racked with
all the possibilities
that you do not
want to come to be.

You can have depression
with similar obsessions
but be affected differently,
whilst anxiety
has you move quickly in terror
depression brings despair
where there is not actions
to repair.

And sometimes
in-between these states of mind
you can find
lurking urges
pushing you to
end the madness
you are going through.

I’ve done my version
of each of these,
walked roads
which few believed
but I can see
the reality
of your suffering,
cause you are
family to me.

Right now
it is a beating flesh bowl
****** and hollow,
pumping out
semi precise
kind of nice
percussion.

But it is getting
a little crowded
with all those
love notes
of mellow
melancholia
music
that makes me
forget how
to use it
properly.

So, lately
I have been pondering
redecorating
that useless thing.
I’ve been contemplating
taking
all the red blood
that has been bathing
my system
in oxygen
and replacing it
with chambers
of danger
and dust.

If I must
use it
then I need to
remove
all of you
that have been
living in there
rent free
before I can give it
a gothic reprieve,
all dark, gross,
and gritty.

I might even
just take out
the whole *****.

Might be good for the spacing
like removing
walls we weren’t using
anymore.

What do you think?

I don’t know where you came from,
Yet I see you in my favourite song.
I’m not sure where it is you’ll go,
Or if that’s even for me to know.
I wonder what it is you think,
Of meeting me at the brink?
I feared the chaos we could bring,
As you deserve peace within.
I let you glimpse at my heart,
Unaware youd leave with A part.
I feel our time may of been and gone,
Yet the feelings still linger on.
At times I wonder if we missed,
A vital part, loves first kiss.

I remember
brighter days
when us children
would run and play.
Now we cry and say
how we wish things
didn’t have to change.

Our naivete
is like the Christmas scene
made up nativity
that Christians sing to,
praying cause
they believe
their fictions are true.

The unknown
has grown
like towering tumors
stealing our good humor
and replacing
curiosity with
**** filled fear.

Our half of the sphere
spins away,
till all luminescence
becomes some
sweet reminiscences
and each illuminated instance
becomes false foggy memories.

The night is long.
All the light is gone
so, the shadows fade
from lighter shades
to infinite
darkness.

Though, I try
I can’t fight this
tiresome
exhaustion.

So, I let sweet sleep
descend on my
heavy eyelids.

This is for all the ones I used to adore,
the ladies who left before we could explore
a love I have long since lost access to.

This is for each heartbreak that cracked
the beating bit of fabricated flesh that is
not supposed to be damaged like this.

The little red head, the blonde one,
the childhood friend who moved on before,
I realized that we were two coins
floating on the same side in this sad life.

This is for the little boy’s broken dreams,
all those starlight space farer’s fast schemes
of far off fantasies with romantic space queens.

This is for the last chance solo dance
as I face the place where I live alone,
preparing to die in a home
were my hideaway heart stays
because it is tired of trying to play a part
in this human race.

Never was the fear of ants
the lack of size
and unyielding distance
as they moved on to find
the food they needed to
to feed young emerging ones.

Still, I yield
to the awe,
on bended knees
scraped as I crawl
searching the vast expanse
for something
that I will never
really understand.

My neck and eyes strain
to comprehend
what my brain lacks
as I snap back
to this flesh trap
that longs to be
something more
then a flicker in
eternity
and infinity.