I want to shoot someone
I want to shoot myself
I need just one gun... one
Two bullets would really help
I want to push you over a bridge
I want to ******* hang myself
Lion fighting off crocodile
Insanity? Or mentally versatile?
When thoughts force themselves into your head
Instability, in and out of bed
When the fine line between what's sane and what's not, becomes a grey area
Wouldn't you rather be dead?
Really though?
You could turn your imaginary place into a play area
Just sort of "go nuts"... macadamia
Walk around with your head held high
Saying "I'm going to slay me a... dragon today"
Or smack the stripes off a zebra, then head **** a giraffe
Enough!... ****, I'm beginning to scare myself
Next time I write a poem
I should ******* prepare myself
S'nuts.

A walk through thirsty land
Breathe... step... breathe... step
Dunes of towerring, rusty sand
With each step, breathe... step
No rules, no lanes... no need to 'keep left'
Or walk in any particular direction... but that which you choose
Too hot by day to play, by night... too cold to snooze
It is beautiful, in an evil way
Impressive, but can ****
It giveth less than it taketh away
That bone piercing, nightly chill
It's getting closer, time grinds teasingly on
The dunes seem to get taller, teasing the sun
Whose heat, direct from sky to forehead
Squeezes my pores...
Breathe... step... breathe... breathe... step
And robs my body of its last bead of sweat
Breathe... breathe... breathe... step
Attempt to swallow saliva... feel like I'm gurgling on glass
Breathe... stop
No tree... open land... sea of sand... parched
Breathe
Try to reassure myself, in a raspy monotone
Wish for one thing right now, not water... chlorofoam
So I can pass on, and not feel it
The desert's friends are up and about in the dark, cheering "**** it! **** it!"
I try to ill will it... try to hold on
But this warrior of nature's choke hold, grip... proves too strong
To fight
So... tonight
I decide "It's over, I'm gone"
I can hear the afterlife call
Out to me
Pick myself up... Breathe... step... stumble... fall.

Sway the right way, while going wrong
Delivery's weak, but his talk is strong
What's the point?
To talk lip? Impress?
To act, walk and talk slick, but the reality is that you repress
That which you need to express
The right to 'speak your mind', against 'pleasing them' takes second place
That's not right?
For a man not to be able to hold his own, stand his ground... or, if necessary
Fight
Dignity's hidden like a shadow in the night
That's what you get for conforming to the system, being 'proper'... a piece of the puzzle
Like a dog roaming the mean streets in a muzzle
I pity these people
Who always look up to others
And will never know how it feels  to be better... or even
Equal
Sad people.

What is this?
I feel a hint of the same pain business
Thought I was passed that... apparently not
All this fortune, I've 'apparently' got
Not
Anger in my throat, pain... burningly hot
I'm tired of it
Beginning to think it won't leave
I need to make like  tree and...
Branch
Alcohol breakfast... cigarette lunch
Don't get your ******* up in a bunch
As frustrating as the financial crunch
When all the big fish did was "Munch! Munch! Munch!"
What financial crunch is this?
Affecting only the one with a legit business
I'm mad at the television
Depicting our childish, corrupt, political situation
Yes, that's the definition
Of pain.

Self analysis?
Or self induced creative paralysis?
There's a fine line
Between correcting, perfecting... and losing your spine
Mine
Is a critical look at what I do
And it's a positive, laid back method too
Go with the flow
Make you read it quicker/faster/sprinting
Michael Johnson... or, slow... mo'
"These new generation poets, they just don't know no more"... They say
The older generation, fail to understand how we play
With words... swim with the sharks
And glide with birds
Dangerous sometimes... poetic cliffhanger
Still stronger
Faith is unbreakable... diamond
lasts longer
You see?
It's 'kicking', like a thousand ninjas...
And Bruce Lee.

They call me a loose cannon... I call them "target"
To be deep is what I choose... canyon
As bright as a star gets
As opposed to being dull
Like others I know, that are as cheerful as a skull
For the system, won't slave
I'm the one that will be doing a dance in my grave
Truth hits at them from all over, tsunami
Tidal wave
Dead men tell no tales... they say
I'm breathing, so I must be alive I guess
Which means that it's my duty to stand up today
I'm bleeding these words, less
For the sake of trying to impress
Them
Than to address
Them
Speak my mind... and bravely express
Myself... and point of view
Not afraid of the three fingers that point back at me
Every time that I point at you
Yes
Loose cannon
Poetic and artistic insanity in excess
At its best.

It gets deeper... wider
It's a good feeling... to know that I can confide in her
She's always been there
Even when I thought she wasn't
When I thought I'd kicked her out of my life completely
Self righteously so
But just like before... I again fell for her
That unfortunate incident, years ago... her mistake
'My' **** take
Could not be forgiving
My hard headedness, probably as a result of hard living
Feeling like I was 'gangsta'
She loved me and all my 'rasta'...
Tendencies
And I wasn't empathetic enough to accept an apology
Turned her politely away, silently insulting her with ****** street terminology
I was a *****
So we grew apart quick
But still remained friends
Though feelings between us rendered us 'strained ' friends
Until it got real
Had to accept how I feel, and forgive her
And that fondness rekindled
Into that which it was
Pause... fast forward... some dumb person posts a
Comment  on facebook, afraid that I'd lost her
Scary... but it opened my eyes after so long
To realise, with 'Shee' is exactly where I belong.