Sometimes I would hold the hand that broke me, expecting it to be a barricade between me and a vehicle.

Sometimes I got so scared of the monsters under my bed,
but I didn't realize that I crawled into bed with one, expecting it to stop the nightmares it caused in the first place.

Sometimes it kissed my finger when I got a paper cut,
but never once did it cool the tobacco kissed burns on my arm.
Sometimes it whispered "I love you" with the same lips that screamed "You're worthless!"

I remember when I hated everything about it but I still craved it to stay.
I remember when it left, but its presence still breaks my bones and cuts my skin.

Words hang full of weight
Cement filling hollowed out bird bones
Represent this moment
When we started flying planes
To liberate the regret of our potential
Walking into brick walls
Excited because we broke ourselves first
We are always first in the afterlife

These painted billboards are holographic images
Of plea bargains we made with the devil.
In this case the devil looks like
A society with more money than love
More violence than conversations
Enough hatred to fuel an economy

I hate that we are taught as children
To be helplessly free
We are liberated
As long as we stay in our boundaries
Don't be black son
You must be a carbon copy
Of the white out in our past
Please don't stand up for anyone
But yourself

how strange
the gift of contemplation
to allow the mind to wander
creating imaginary worlds
in our skulls
the ability to ponder
what meaning, if any
there is(n't)
in our fleeting days
we trivialize time
as a linear tool
by which we measure
our triumphs, losses
all the same
in the grand scheme
how strange
my arms and legs
moving, making
running in circles
to survive
but there's momentary bliss
in the recollection
of a beautiful day
with someone I loved
long ago
the clock stops
as does the pain
of existing within
such looming madness