I'm late, per usual
(I'm anxious,
yet not worried).

Concrete lines combine
to form
shapes, polygons,
and
anything you want them to be.

I want to help and mend
and repair

but

poison lies where kindness
stops despair.


it goes on.
The routine will sing me
the sweet swallow's song
of my fingerprints,
and of how they
parallel the hearts
of everyone else.

I'm late, per usual.

I won't
believe what
the swallow sings,
nor will I
accept what
life brings

until I've blinked enough
to dissociate.

..

will you mark the    bridge on your passing    stanislaw catching in the eddy beneath    where i came apart    water circling into the sky    i was    somewhere else in the ether    alone    beneath a great canvas of static    vacuum    a cosmic blot of existence    what have you    lost in the canals of mars

I'm centralized ******* the eyes behind your face.
Your envy shines through your scars and lies fill your space.
The spot where you once stood is now occupied only by shadow;
Shattered shell, now simply useless, when you used to be fallow.
Speaking haunted words to impress, when they simply aren't your best,
Writing a  metaphorical mess to disguise the blood in your chest.
Rationalizing rage to reiterate your immunity to emotion,
When in truth, your feelings shroud you, like the earth consumed in ocean.
You've exhausted all your time preparing shipmates to drop bombs,
When you should have just put on a red shirt so they would remain calm.
Your day's gone, along with the girl you used to lay on, it's the
Same song, except the ******* sound engineer kept the delay on.
Your gears are running into each other and eroding off slowly,
Until the day your seconds stop ticking and prove that your lowly
Life can only be changed with a changed outlook on your self-worth.
When you let go of someone who never existed, you'll experience rebirth.

Masochism is enveloping you, sadism a byproduct,
Like the desperate excuses you force out of your itching tear ducts.
Gears stuck on 7, the motor's about to blow out.
Don't think now that this person you know is on the holdout.
It's so loud, the screaming amplified by your written words,
And though it hurts, you're coveting that which you don't deserve:
Quit creating your own mirages by expecting to find an oasis.
Until you realize there's only desert, you'll wither away and remain faceless.

Deception is a clever trick, but you're not so great of an actor
(Ironically enough), you have become your own detractor.
Eat fungus to reach the stars, when they're burning lightyears away and
All you're feeling is the warmth of your dopamine receptors at play.
Lying selfishly, forgetting how distinguished you once were,
Not only pushing your love away, but losing objective worth.
Letting a gorgeous figure become a disguise for broken homes.
With shattered moans, you drug-induce tattered bones.
The sadness grows, but only to those who see the truth:
Your admittance is a sign of the desperation leaking through.
A child wrapped in the body of some apathetic youth,
Not yet strong enough to turn away from the peeking moon
Instead of howling loudly, in sheer exhaustion and confusion.
You see, your image of me, like the oasis, is an illusion!
We've switched sides of the coin, you became what you hated.
But, from where did all your anger come? I thought emotions were overrated.

Human weakness is enveloping you, bitterness a byproduct,
Like the desperate excuses you force out of your itching tear ducts.
Fear stuck on max volume, the speaker's about to blow out.
Don't think now that this person you know is on the holdout.
It's so loud, the envy behind your spoken words,
And for what it's worth, you're insulting who once made you bless your birth.
Quit creating your own mirages by expecting to find an oasis.
Until you realize there's only sand left, you'll die thirsty and remain faceless.