And you lay down your armor,
your shield,
sword,
stripped of assurance,
debriefed of all promises of security,
killing all chance of defense;
offense:

And you lay down your amour,
your loyalty,
promises,
giving unconditional passion,
killing all chance of betrayal;
keeping all chance of pure bliss.

It's just a constant fit of unnecessary flicking on the skull of humans
Who struggle to be free.
The drums drum:
To run, to run;
To dig graves,
To suffocate these earsplitting languages.
My shovel sings a shaky, muffled dirge
Between soil crumbles
And screeching pebbles.
I'll bury your mud puddle minds in order
To grow a farm of brain stems.
Maybe then you'll sip my truth
Sloppily down your gullet,
Instead of choking from disgust
When your lips sweep the cups ridge.

I have never felt such longing for ignorance than I have on this night
On which I have read the script that inscribes the ghastly when
And where or eight deaths.

I fell very much in love with a girl of the 20th century,
Her curled hair
Four outfits.
The silver band on her ring finger
And her driven passion for writing.
He devote bravery
Tantalizing sarcasm that made smiles crack the days hardened face of mine.

I fell in love with her strong sense of self
And unfathomable ability to say every piece  
Of every idea that trickled into her mind
And out through her lips.
Her value of words
Knowledge,
Writing,
Experience
Match that of my own,
Glimmering gracefully in her eyes.
I applaud her every wish to travel,
To live,
Not in vain,
But freely
And to not become a married woman
Who is forgotten like a draft
Through cracks in a window.

I fell in love with this girl
Who changed so horrendously into a woman
As I am before my very eyes.
Her ******* formed;
In angst of questionable hormonal
And ****** thoughts that throbbed in her mind.

I fell in love with this young,
Graceful woman,
But on this same night,
I mourned her death
And the passing of seven others.

Oh how this pain comforts me
In ways so delirious;
Oh how I would love to bask in the ignorance
Of a heart so full and whole and complete.
Oh, how I wish I never found my hero,
Because with a hero comes heartbreak.

Everything I do right is minimized,
Scrutinized,
Commercialized.
                        
                                                                ­                                                     Everything I do wrong is amplified
                                                       ­                                                                 ­                                  monster-size,
                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­         humanized,
                                             ­                                                                 ­                                              punctuated,
       ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                     fluctuated,                                 ­                                                                 ­          And blown up, into the shape of a halo.

Turmeric stained fingers,
Spine stained from cracked bones,
Coiling down -
Around bitter words,
Spewing slurs-

Your harmony is a harm to me
As these stained fingers twitch to aid
The rebirth,
The renewed version of myself.

But they're fighting and fidgeting a fingerly fight,
As my neck curls below your bellowing blows.

I could say it is so precious,
But then I would be lying.

I could say we are all lucky;
Everyone would believe me.

I could pull that microphone up to my chin,
Curl my lips around the thirty different voices,
Repeat it over and over,
Year after year after year.

No matter how much I ate at that microphone,
I would still go to Hell
For all the lies I told the world,
About itself.