A lain trap of personal tinder I throw into my burning furnace of love.
An evil intrapersonal outward insight;
I'm calm at the end of the day,
tinged with the sour bile of disgust

My personal defenses reflect these fireballs, I eat, with reckless accuracy, hitting the physical confines that are my ribs, blasting back these dark coarse and cutthroat pinballs, all within this arena I call my essence.
The fight is long, hard, and borderline pointless as
eventually the shot hits its assumed mark, branding my heart.
It heats my chest to near melting point
smoke tickling through my nose fit to sneeze.

The deep wounds you transcribe,
I dig harder at myself to establish clarity.
I only box with shadows.
No hits land as no more hits are thrown except the ones thrown at I, entirely by I, yet I, I stand and watch these shadows of forms I once and still love. Some cosmic knowing they only see the shadow of I
that was left behind.
All of the duality does not miss me.
Maybe one day the words I've said and say will allow you some of my truth.


See these spirits in the corner of my eyes,
they flee as another attacks. Sometimes I flinch as to defend.
The ghastly, peculiarity stricken: all turn away as I melt my form onto the floor and the seat I now envelop.
Passion seems to no avail besides the form I emancipate to the edges of this room.
Yet now theses walls breath among the peaceful silence while alongside that silence,
  I have been learned that,
I protrude;
profanely:
alone.