One more 6 o'clock sunrise
A night of drinking turned to another
I've given myself to my habits
To just one more smoke
To just one more drink
One more good ****
Then its time to straighten out

Then the sun rises again
Through another cloud of smoke
A night of heavy drinking turned to another
That was months ago

It broke
Before it cracked,
you fell in two

Fill my ears up from the dirt
Engraved a stone within a curse
In a field by the old black shed

Some scribbles inside my hand
Left behind from when I grabbed
The last words ever you wrote

Matted hair and shaky hands
Have a drink, my last amends

I felt the dirt in my finger. It was still damp from the rain. It must  have rained for weeks. lord knows the last time I felt the sun. Pale white and over run.

When the city lights are too bright
Does it leave any room for the sun to rise?
Feed your fields from the fluorescent lamp.

I sit at my desk,
do only as I’m told.
The teachers drone
And it would seem I have no future
Because I take interest in nothing
I don’t like to read and math is just too hard.
My mind moves too quick for my eyes, for my fingers to move across the lines of text,
but my lips and hands say anything and everything that needs to be said.
I don’t know that knowledge they preach

Pick up your pencils, read the prompt quickly but carefully, and you may begin.
Tell me of you future
What are your dreams
Dream big! The sky is the limit but remember the sky is only just above your head...
You may grow you may flourish, be all that you can be but know that you can only be you and you are not so big so tall so brilliant as those that walk above you.

I want to be a firemen, an astronaut, a police officer, and a cowboy.
She wants to be a nurse, a weather reporter, a vet, and a gold medalist.
But they say these are a fools dreams.
That I can only go as far as my legs will stretch and will never make it past the threshold of achievable,
and my hands can only hold onto what my fingers are long enough to wrap around.

There are shackles in that school.
They teach me that I can do anything and everything that my heart desires...
As long as I desire what they’ve placed in front of me.
Pay no mind to that other shade of green.
Follow suit, fall in line
Put your pencils down
Your time is up
Hand your papers to the person sitting in front of you and remain silent for the remainder of the class.

If you do not question everything,
then it’s likely that you know next to nothing.

Remember that this place was and still is a creation
and it moves and shapes with every turn,
every gesture, smile, and bottle broken.

I can know all of these things but never understand my thoughts until I try to explain them to you.

My records come close to singing for my heart but it only gives me just a taste,
a brush against the hand of the girl I so desperately, so longingly wish to hold.

Speak on every instant that shakes your nerves, but speak carefully so that you won’t need to black out the words you did not mean to write so heavily that no one will ever see them again.

This place was created. Know that,
And know that there is a definition to every who and what that is and will be.
Nothing simply is

Find your bearing and follow it.
In this way, if there is a home, you will find it.
There are no paths that can lead you blindly.
Explore this world with a wild heart
as you did as a child under the clothes racks of department stores while trying to escape your mother’s hand.
Because somehow back then you knew that while walking the isles would get you to where you were going, it left so much unseen.
In between those racks you found treasures.
A golden button with four holes and an anchor molded into its face,
a small blue and green ball that had been lost and surely forgotten by explorers that ventured between the lines before you.

Collect your treasures, know that they are there, and hold them close.

At night,
Just before the world sleeps,
The sun paints the sky in blood
In remorse for those that wont see it rise

I’m afraid of the hours before sleep
Those hours unearth the deepest parts
They whisper the reaching hands,
That the daylight keeps at bay.
When my eyes shut all I can do is fall inside myself
And see how sorry I am

Those hours before sleep
Are the slowest and most unsettling hours of my life
And just like that, I never had a problem with leaving

I pulled the moon from my pocket
and dropped it into the sky, eager eyed,
like the coin slot of a gum ball machine.

It gave me one star
but that wasn’t enough.
My hands are much bigger these days.
So I stood and waited,
for that moment when the rise of the sun would come to meet the fall of moon,
but that never happened.

I was told that the deepest truths,
could only be poems,
could only be tasted.

And the truth in truth,
is that words have no truth.

So I curled my tongue
around the fingers of a pen
and wrote out every lie I’ve ever heard.

I drew my own words.
Straight from the wrench of my own mouth.

I drew your face.
I wrote on it all the words that betrayed it.

This was the first time
I could recall my feet reaching the floor
from high up on the pews,
and I stood,
and I walked right out of that church.

Because the truth in truth,
is that all words are lies
and you hold a book full of them.

So I tied knots around my wrists
to know what chains were like.

And I licked a bathroom floor once
and it didn’t taste so good,
but it tasted exactly how I knew it would

Unlike the taste of saying thank you,
when someone hands you that gift,
You... Never wanted.

Or the taste of that gagging
l-l-l-l-love,
To someone who cut all the ribbons from your hair.

For what its worth,
and it sure as hell ain’t worth a ****.

I felt, the hit.
When it fell it broke, pieces never mean ****.

Left nothing but a scratch on a wooden floor,
but it was treated as a sore in my mouth that I bore.
Tongued and picked until I bled it out.

Packed and labeled as misunderstood.
You hit the ground and you never mistook.
The cracks and frays that wouldn’t let you be.

You spend nights in the cold.
Kept out by unwelcomes and deadbolts.
Hit the bottle harder than it could ever hit back.

We **** and scream till the day dreams freeze.
Fleeing but clinging, we pray for the memories.
We get, we just get on with it

Broken heads, lay as they seem.
To never mend but wait for what comes to be.

Don’t pity the dead, they’ve done their bit.
Clocked out of a world that we never come to fit.

Afraid of the hours just before sleep,
and the thoughts that tend to seep.

You never saw it coming but you’re **** glad it’s here