I just feel alone.

A single weight held tight across my jaw.

A timelapse of sorts.
One that repeats itself again and again.

Again and again.

Again and again I wish.
For more.
For less.
Less weight.
Less surrender.
A single shield is all that is left of me.
If I raised the sword, would I collapse?
A single wall falling in on itself.

I am a single wall, falling in on itself.

Why? Is the gold-leaf not enough?
To show favor? Gain favor with the gods?
Whomever they may be.

The sword falls.
Clatters across my side.

There is too much weight today.

One I can put down.
The other, I cannot.

I swallow the sword as I swallow the pen.
It never feels like enough.

Break wall, break!
Tumble, sword, tumble!
Clatter life, clatter!
Make noise, for God's sake!
Make some noise as you fall!

Make noise as you fall.

Do something, Lord, something.
Don't let this be your last breathe:
Your last exhale into an open space.

Yawp greatly into that rotten apple sky.
Cast your own poison into its folds.
Leave something behind.
If it is rotten, then let it be so!

Let it be rotten.
As rotten as you are.

Maybe something will grow from the soil.
Another apple perhaps.
Or a single tree.

I would prefer it.
Leave something behind, by God!

Leave them
Something