I could feel the pain
bleeding through my skin,
raw, disturbed diction
dragging it’s flamed vowels
across my frame, dry, rotten,
ragged rhymes reverberating
in a sea of brokenness, lost
in stretched and stitched surfaces.
And as I stared around the empty
space surrounding me, the blazed
ceiling fan screaming with no mercy,
double negatives drifting upon me,
merciless metaphors hissing
and hissing over my crashed
continent, I was beginning to embrace
every enflamed emotion enveloped
within me – the days when I stood
outside at the school grounds watching
the various kids playing on the monkey
bars and others dashing down the green
fields, and I could hear harsh words
hovering inside my ears from
their crazed lips, all of me trying
to suppress every awakening
sensation swirling inside my stomach,
trying to ignore their shadowed inventions.
But their bitter language stung my soul
and left scars all over my heart.  I was
breaking and breaking, diminishing
in a dungeon of chained cityscapes,
no one to comfort me in my time
of need, endless tears rolling down
my stained face as they laughed
and laughed at me.   And as I
looked outside at the motionless
trees and leaves, each depiction
fading away from my existence
like a thief in the night, I was
hurt to the core, mad as hell
as I thought about every
shattered situation.  My canvas
was cracking and cracking,
converging towards twisted
galaxies, steady inhaling the
pain, my bloodshot eyes
burning in broken bridges.