I'm that piece of torn ,
worn out jacket ,
that knows every move you've made .
I created that frazzled attitude that rises up
roaring from your solitude
. . . don't mess with me .

I'm the one who twists your tornado .
The one who makes the truth hard to swallow .
Like I said , don't mess with me .

I've got no excuses for reasons I don't need .
Touch me and see .

I'm the one who paved your breaks , not the one who potholed the double takes , ruffled your
feathers . . . nor will attend your wake .

So drink your liquid grapes of wrath .
All I have to say ?
"Don't Mess With Me !"

I think back
To those moments
Where you can grab
The rays of sunshine
That rarely come through
The clouds of a week
Of rain.

Or the blankets feel
Like the hugs of
A past lover,
Compassionate,
Like the ever haunting
Weight of the person
You truly loved.

And the night
Serves as a companion
As you gaze up
To the stars,
Wondering if they
Ever feel the need
To gaze back.

The skeleton of the trees
have gotten their color back,
The cats play among
The fallen leafs,
All while a hand grips
And holds tight unto
My chest.

I’m waiting for the night
To show it true colors,
So I can feel at peace,
And let go.

Lost faith in humanity
These bruises ain't healing
Why'd you expose me,
Make me walk around naked?
When you saw my deeds clothed me
You soiled my garment
So I threw it away
It was burning my skin
I have flashbacks of falling
And nobody calling
But my ears are still open
And I'm tired of lying
Gotta keep moving
This is no time for crying
Tell me the truth
What can I do
How can I help you

Smother the torches
Burn down the sun
My young boy has died
And his ashes blown
Stomp on their candles
Shatter their statues
No fumbling mourn
Could bring back my boy
No fostered condolence
No faltering words
Woe to the blacksmith
Pounding on the night
His burning stars
Errupting, errupting
Woe, the moon has left
And no jewel of old or now
Could bring him back tonight
No noise of plea, no agony
No mumbling thunder
In my frail blue body
Woe, the room is dark
And empty and empty
Not a shadow, not a light
No one to hold onto
No one no one no one
There is nothing in me
With my young boy gone

Every night, I walk down to the lips of the my town
Quiet as the stark knife edge, simple as dust
I will get lost, once, tens, a thousand times
Counting meters and turns to the forbidden home
I will waste days and days to glimpse the blackness
Peep by the fence, disappear behind, watch the door
Touch the sweet blue dryness inhabiting the windows
I can stroll a hundred hours, all alone in detatchment
You do not know. You are never awake to see.
Every night, I pray. Everyday, I look for God's fair face
In wild men, in sullen men. In the keen red eyes of hatered
In my own beloved misery. God is in the ashes,
God leaves footprints in the graveyards
Watches the playgrounds from afar. God is in tyrant boredom
When trees shuffle, and all else leave

God is not here. Like a cannon ball, I toss the lowly soul around
I wash her face by the storm, I pull her along into malls
Lights take her astray, music suffocates her
In the night, every night, I am a shady wanderer
Wandering as a worm, looking for sweet
And no one no one no one is here

Before we met,
a stone mold held me hostage.
When we met,
you showed me the cup that
I had hidden deep within myself.
But I was not alone,
for your cup was hidden deep within yourself.

When we removed our stone masks,
with hands shaking,
we offered our cups to one another.
Each of us filled the other's with glycerin.
With each sip we took,
our hearts began to listen.
The waters buried deep within us were brought to the surface.

To not drown in our own waters,
the glycerin we gave one another needed to cease.
So we stepped aboard our separate ships, with our own cups,
not yet completely full,
but glowing with a glycerin
that at long last, had finally begun to flow.