I realize I was writing a lot of abstraction without direction. any loser and fraud can write
''
  leaves pronounce the petulant tongue in noon like
leaky
dreams for a feathered
    fawn for its squirming young & the mouth opens for a foster mother in blue jeans.
  squeeze the juice of eternal life into a
  paper cut for faded  faculties"

it's alright, but it's not as impressive as saying ' Took a walk and I felt like blowing my brains out; it is 2:21 pm and I'm bored'
  it takes some guts to be vulnerable is all I'm saying, I like hiding behind abstraction, but when the hurt comes there are only so many purple skies and crippled hands you can paint; the void doesn't care about emotion but I sometimes like spitting in the face of eternity.
  an ant against an army of sorrow; you know the outcome, but you still try, to some avail