fickle beings
cold hearts
Sleepless nights
passing cars

Purple bruises
Pale faces
White lies
empty spaces.

If a congregation were to slowly grow
like a flock of birds coming to feed
And I stand amidst at the middle point
Everyone's ears waiting like children
As they're giving me the chance
to exhale the sickness that has dwelled in my lungs
To release a speech that deafens the demons
so that they'd no longer follow the sound of my steps
Giving me a chance to confess
all shame and regrets
Granted the moment to free my soul
from the prison of what's unspoken
And to free my head
from its delusional fiction
The time is drawing nigh
as the Sun has traveled the sky
Everyone has arrived in assuring attendance
Except my words

The last time knocks; clock’s small hand stopped
A sign to wave a hand with sigh of laugh and willing mind.
I, then stepped a foot in an endless creepy painful woe
The only thing I should have done before the start.

Would you know fear if you swallowed it?
It's like eating off death in bits, only you're alive but you feel it;
It's the bellows of craving that want to screech through your throat
And as you ache, you accept- what you don't want but you've come to need.

An intrusion, a love crime, a you.

Would you know poison as you breathed it?
It's like inspiring a monoxide, only it chokes but you like it.
It's the hunger for catharsis that only comes with pain,
As you embrace that this can destroy you- and you need it to.

Because I do.
It's the only way I feel about you.

the chemicals that make up my body
are separating
and finding new homes
new souls
I fold a piece of paper in the shape of a swan
and swat at the flies
as I rise
and become one
with everything, everyone
there are puddles of people everywhere
I sat my swan on one
and the wind carried it away
puddle to puddle
person to person
I do not know anymore
I make things
and then give them away
watching as they circulate
just to end up in a closet
some are lost and forgotten
the paint is faded
and dry rotted
I begin to hate a talent
that I was born with
that I inherited
expectations will break a man
and rejection will make a man go mad
I am sad
everyone gets sad sometimes
and this is just one of those times
I am not rejected
but overly loved
and that makes me sad
people die everyday
and I am worried about who I am?
as I lay in my bed
under my sheets with air conditioning
a pantry full of food and two cats
all the while children starve to death
and I have the nerve to be sad
maybe I am just disappointed with myself
and that is why
I am only concerned with everything else

i am a broken record
irreparable
so i’ll keep spinning
until someone comes along
who knows they can’t fix me
but they love me anyway.