i can't read your words right now
how can i read anything
when i can hardly think
one foot in front of the other
i can't see what's in front of me
how
am i supposed to seek asylum
in your words
how
am i supposed to grab ahold of something
i can't conceive
i'm not here right now
and i apologize
as existing is an obligation
you can't back out of
you cant be
without being there
yet i'm existing
and i don't know where

empty pockets full of
rusted bells broken whistles
all the distractions
the time eaters

all the coffee and tea are gone
die in the dessert
or write yourself an ocean
to drown in

I crave to be strong
these sparce muscles stand for what I've been neglecting
this body I wish to strengthen
as it is the vehicle to my success
I will arrive at the goal
with nothing less then this
flesh and bones and blood
and through time
I will learn to cater it's demands
as a mother coddles her child
for I am nothing more then
me myself and my body

I think I'm afraid of being too honest
said the poet to their poetry
oh, don't worry
says the poetry
they only see a mirror
between the lines

I am in the middle of a wake
a paper weight holding down
the pondering, wandering thoughts
of a man who commuted suicide

in the magrins
people write their sorrows
in a dialect I recognize
but do not fully understand
I read them
because they hand them to me

it is not my sorrow to take
I have no right to it
but it is their sorrow to share
broken off into shards
passed hand to hand
in hopes the sharp edges
may dull in time

I will hold each shard given
warm them in my hands
dull the edges on my flesh
before I return it to the teller
So that they are one step closer
to a picture that no longer
hurts to touch