The sheets still warm with you and me,
I am overcome with the same old guilt.
A shame that whispers,
like a dark secret down cobwebbed allies,
my own hidden name.

How, I lay and wonder, as the
sweat cools on our skin,
did man ever grow if the result
is always this?

Obvious, though it is.
After all, here we sit.

My song is a lifetime,
wasted in triviality.
Crescendo close to daylight,
although the sky is ripped and torn.
The meaning of it,
if any can be found,
is vague and small,
the sound is all too loud.
My song is made for screaming,
from a higher vantage point.
Building tops and cigarette shops,
feature in the refrain.
And always, beating against the backdrop,
the steady sound of rain.
My song is a broken chain of failure,
and small independent success.
It is lifting to the ones who need it,
it takes little time to rest.

You will not find me
coward, pleading at your feet.
I'm searching through the heartbeats
of these breathing city streets.
My ear is to the grindstone,
my purpose, flight and free.

Ankle deep in rainwater,
as lightning tears apart the sky.
Pained breathing, bleeding, barely alive.
Skin feels like fire, struggle to survive.
I will grit my teeth,
and bare it.
Think before you act.

Jump to your conclusion,
pardon my intrusion.
They say multiple contusion.
Blood loss and confusion.

Scratch my fingers through this land.
Cough red spots toward the ground.
I will find the power in me.
Just watch. I will stand.

You will find me
complete through your pushing,
a little stretched after you pull.
Breathing ragged, and loud spoken.
You will find me
Unbroken.

I'll follow, four steps behind, into hell fire.
I'd topple the champion of that dark place,
just to feel your hand, gentle on my face.

I struggle through the wound
of Earth's cracked crust,
to find the simple solitude of us.

Reborn again man, with cradled brow in hand,
I will force my way down the aisles
so that, together, we may stand.

I bow my head, and repeat all words,
I fight back my mind's latest coup,
so I may find the courage to utter, "I do."

In this world, all of it's sights and wonder,
I have found only peace, your hair pinned under,
my eyes focused, laser, as I watch you slumber.

Every fear I possess,
every lie I can attest,
and here I stand, head held low,
until I clutch my heart in death throe.

Alone in an empty room,
I can recover here,
heal as healing dictates.
But here, in this safe,
still place,
I can smell you.
I can always smell you.

But kept from the truth,
in these waning years of my youth,
I can reach past it, through it, and into you.
From there, I hope, you can feel me, too.

In life, we are told,
there is hope.
I would trade an
eye for half a chance
to see you.
My love,
these hours keep us,
alone and apart,
My love,
I know you,
my work of art.

How you thwart,
my cleverest, my sweetheart.
my attempts at recovery.
My love, how I envy.

I am tired flesh
and splintered bone.
Somehow I've lost my way,
but I'm not alone.

These four limbs,
that are my cage,
have become my home.
Buried with bottled rage.

Clip my smile,
so it can never widen.
Loose my mind,
and let it glide in.

Freed from bonds,
I move my feet.
Door to door,
until we meet.

Claw out your eyes,
bite your tongue.
The things I've done for you,
and you'd leave me here.
To die alone.
Here.

Sew your ears shut,
break your hands,
this is my life.
You have twisted me,
perverted me and made fetish of me.
To your purpose, and yours alone.

But here, in the still of this night,
the moon high in the sky
and this shaking in my bones.
I will call forth the rain,
because I alone know it's secret name.
I will make flesh your fear,
I will watch as you live it through.
Tonight is the night I leave you.

Here.
Alone.
To die.