You finally said something
to me.
There I stand
thinking
of what to say

I could say something funny
or clever
or cocky
or rude
or kind

The things cycle in my head
But too much time has passed
I have said nothing
nothing

nothing

anything would have been good
to prove I'm alive
that I am a person

but you'll only remember
me as the one with nothing
to offer

You've summed me up
In an empty nutshell

I watched your hair spin
as you walked away

I whispered a
"Goodbye"

Smiles bend
it's all external
distant from myself
I can't connect

I am both
ugly and an *******
life will be hard for me
I suspect

You chomp through your Cheetos
and wipe the orange dust
on the white leather seat of
my sofa
Your laughter echoes down
the hall
the walls find it contagious
but my brain
my brain
my brain pulses with anger
exertion to the surface
of my skin
back and forth
back and forth
down the hall
I get the stain remover
and finally enter the family room
and you're not there
no one is
and neither is the stain
I remember I'm alone
wishing these things
a big
white
empty house
wishing to get angry
with meaningless
stains

and you're never there
where are you

I have travelled back in time
only to find, myself
at the age of twelve
and I told him
"Son, enjoy a time
of loving yourself
because you will grow
to hate yourself"
The punch line is:
that memory is what
drove me to this
self-hatred.

Pulled by sounds of the inner ear
My mouth it trembles, it inches near
to whisper nothings in her ear
to expose my inner fear
The sounds aloud say "Enter Dear"
but I don't think i'll windsurf here
I find it clear that Winter's near
Retreat outside this inner ear!
I run and dive and disappear
in the desert in the clear
where nothing tries to interfere
to be alone and chin the tears
to sway and pass the spinning years
to dance and bow and give my cheers
I know I am the winner here

You say I'm out of
my mind, but I am very
much inside of it

you're walking mighty
cocky, gobble every
little kudo to so
grow your bobbing
crimson head instead
of mending bridges
burnt to ash and grain
you rain and
wobble 'top this
weather
vain, again you
drain the night
no flight, that's
right it's you
I've named
the Rooster.