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This here is my home,
metal sides of cold.
Death drips,
from the roof and mold.

This here is my home,
I run away far with my car.
To find myself parked,
staring through the dark.

This here is my home,
the walls mutter judgement,
charred with abandonment.

This here is my home,
It's gone now,
Burnt to the ground.

This here was my home.
Jason Drury Apr 2022
Cut my throat,
let it bleed my screams.
Gurgle the unrelenting,
patience of myself.
Slash the wrist of the empathic,
let the burden flow.
Lend the ears silent,
to selfish voices.
Shatter the heart,
of the half empty.  
Release me from who,
I am.
Jason Drury Sep 2021
“Keep your nose clean”

His intent was momentous.
An ant like phrase,
with mountainous exorcism.

“Keep your nose clean”,
His voice like Zeus,
thunderously subtle.

Echoing and vibrating,
through regret, sin,
and fueled debauchery.

This phrase kept me true,
on-course through,
dark seas.

A map to navigate,
knowing when,
to steer away.

“Keep your nose clean”
I hear him still,
his voice sobering.

“Yes, grandfather.”

“I will”
For my grandfather
Jason Drury May 2020
Selfish are we,
as they breathe death.
Creeps undetected,
its gluttony is relentless.

Infected by narcissus,
obsessed with “want”.
Devoured and exhausted,
we perish when exposed.

Divided by masks,
one selfless,
the other selfish.
It's your choice.
Jason Drury Feb 2020
City lights banter,
with the night.
We walk,
like water and,
with things unseen.
Step with tranquility,
alone with serenity.
Jason Drury Jan 2020
Go north,
into Frost’s domain.
Comparing your soul,
and walk the same path.
Stomp the ground,
to make it real.
Walk in the wood,
in the grass and snow.
Follow the steps,
learned from the past.
Diverge in the thicket,
and follow your heart.

How did you do it?
Will I have to die to?
Jason Drury Dec 2019
These are wounds
piled on my desk.
They bleed for
attention and ink.

These are nameless,
kept away from view.
******* children,
of my quill.

Urchins in rags,
unkept and unfinished.
They haunt my dwelling,
as beggars do.

They are dismembered,
without proper structure.
Perhaps faceless,
void of identity.

Give them names,
would equate their freedom.
Label them,
and they shall see the sun.

Or not,
and leave them,
as they are.

Untitled.
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