Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

If tomorrow we could be friends. Would it be end of an eagle's life. Or the beginning of a vibrant communication among the little birds. I write and feed the birds. I need time to think and I know that I do not hope to see a brighter future. Why should the aged eagle stretch its vapid feathers blanched in age. Why should I be sorry for my speed demon.

I've drank the finest of wine
Down to the bottom of the bottle
Only to witness an ocean alone
Barely surviving my own hands

A fire burned through my viens
That was blew out by the wind
Breezing through the leaves
A calmness that sits with me
Before calmness dismisses me

I walked across the tallest blue sky
Where wide winged birds soar high
Til promises of white clouds turn grey
And so there I fell with the rain
Dripping through the lowest gutter

Many times I was buried, lying in dirt
Like a grave, needing no help
Finding the dark inside of myself
But I always rise with the blades
Of the greenest fresh spring grass

No matter what feeling I catch
None of them seem to everlast

Free will has brought us here,
brought me here,
all the result of breathing.

A consequence from arrogance.
A consequence from alcohol (But not me).
A consequence of neglect.

A consequence of the unknown
explosion at any given moment
from my mother when we
were young.

My developed response
a fight or flight my whole life,
the pathway so deep
a bottom doesn't exist.

Like a deep sea diver
the lower I go
the darker it becomes.

Claustrophobia and panic  
are almost certain.

Breathing
becomes more difficult

and returning to the surface
takes slow and steady patience.

I've only gone so deep.

How much further I might go I do not know.

I'm terrified to think what might be down there.

The thought of meeting the unknown face to face is
a fight I fight everyday.

They tell me that fighting gives it strength,
it would be better to befriend it.

I try but

its hard to make friends
in the dark.

Strung up for all to see
Hanging lifelessly
I see no reason to think you mighty.
It's one thing to ****
Another to hang it like a morbid trophy
No respect for the life it was,
Return it to the field and let it be
A beauty it once was even if you couldn't see.
Hanging corpses by the roadside
What have we become?
Or have we returned to the Romans of old?
Maybe some dumb kids with nothing better to do but chase a Coyote.
It hangs,
A sign we still have far to come
Before we can claim we are humanity.