coated in black tar
a rat by the tail
pull it out from your throat
it's too weak to scurry
pried from it's home
let it go
pick your poison

drown it

in a stream of ethanol
the ghost of a rat

No.

clean the little creature
feed it some crumbs
watch it not grow
make it yours
house it in affection
watch as it tames, no longer craving black tar
let it go

Years of brutal bruising
In my brain
Tired of the pain, but I see nothing else
Without pain, I'm nothing
Too comfortable with hurt, longing for the dark
To reemerge angry, broken and scarred

Shift.

The illusion of having so much to lose
I hold back who I really am
And when will I feel free to let go?
No one knows.

Well there is that one thing,
dissapointment, a cowardly word
it keeps me fenced and I jump too soon every time
so the fence grows taller

So I'll let go of my dissapointment and let the fence fall over.
Embrace change
Next
Next opportunity

Today at the craft store I saw a tall, septum pierced man
A young man of twenty, who probably drinks beer from a can
His hair black and slicked back, smoking probably his last
For today at least, or the hour perhaps
His mother was there, with afflictions of her own
Outside the dollar store

Ya' know, I used to call one my second home
Back before I was ******
When finery was a pressure
To be better because I was lagging
Oh, the complex days of elementary school.

Now I don't know where I stand
I've come straight out of the progressive oven of political awareness
I kinda get it now, but too much

My prejudice says "stop"
My anxiety says "turn"
My curiosity flames and the sides of my head burn

'Cause I'll be honest, he's kinda cute
and those judgments aren't mine anymore, so I'll set them loose
Let them all float away, what I have heard
For that kid isn't there anymore
Oh look, a bird.

I wonder what he was thinking,
or was he thinking of me at all?
This is such a long poem.
I wonder if he writes them.
Is he pursuing an education?
Does he eat meat?
Goodness, I'm so ******* weird.
But I'd like to find out, really though.

Saturating the atmosphere and filling up our insides
Dark clouds of hope
After we lose or fail, the hope runs out
We become impatient
At war with a headache when we don’t get our fix
In our lungs the hope to create something beyond a mere prototype

The insatiable lights to a small flame
Burning a piece of coal, one after another  
See, it puts the fuel into our shiny new motor cars

We are a kingdom of control
A conquest upon nature
Destroying
Taking
Building

We build our own Colossus
Dressed in sheets of iron merging with altitude
Nuts and bolts adorn the corners of the sheets  
He towers while standing for our achievements and looks down upon the tiny world below
“More!” We shout amongst ourselves.

We feel our limbs stiffen and our joints ache
Skin transforms into something strange
Durable
Polished
Metal

Fill these joints with oil, work faster
Part A, then part B to part C
Oil is in short supply for us little machines  
Big machines control the stuffy, gray factory
Big machines hold the oil
Almost all of it

They store it in big, locked vats
They let only a few drops plunge into our tiny sockets
They only loosen the tap right before the Colossus shows signs of rust

The warning bells ring and we are called to the front line
We scale the massive statue, building ladders on our way up
Pollution remains a speculation
The ship is unsinkable
The moon is only a few days away
We land there for eight minutes

Dreams fill our heads like laughing gas
During the sunlight
Under the soot
But the soot begins to take our sunlight

The warning bells stop ringing
Or perhaps our ears can no longer fathom the sound

The Colossus begins to tarnish
The oil taps are jammed with residue

Our gears and shifts and pulleys refuse to listen
We the machinery, begin to corrode
Under gloomy weather, we can still see
Steam
Possibility
Ingenuity
A skeleton of attempts left unscathed

A facade of logic and measurements
We the machinery embodied a gilded romance
Limited by the magnitude of our own strides

I've got so much to say
I just don't know how to articulate

I hope you won't mind the lack of form and structure
For I am new, born again as if from a case of dried palm leaves

My eyes open brighter
My skin's not so dull
I've noticed I can move freely, without disrupting a sleeping beast

The beast is my fear
But fear not, for I've cut off its ear

It snores so dull
It keeps me safe
from sunlight, moonshine, and the fog of today

Oh look, she's begun to rhyme
sort of
She speaks, and her voice chimes
sort of

She's just expressing herself, publicly
She don't care what you have to say or think
That little girl you oh so adored
because she followed your every whim
and disappeared when you wanted her gone the most

She's trying to change
But the sneers keep her down
the illusions from that beast
that she must please everyone

But not so much any more.
Now, not at all.
She dresses not in borrowed clothes, but wishes to sew them on her own
spikes and lots of them, but wear them with lace to remind them what you once were
"*******, please." She says with not a smile but a glazed look.
Because she don't ******* care.
So there.

because I think too much
too many questions
too many ways to live
too many wants and bandages and scrapes and distractions
too many

They shone light green and blue and purple in the light
and white, in line for the Mummy Ride
And I think you saw me posing for a pic
I'd like to see you again, to see if them beautiful eyes did stick

The steady tick and pound of the  drums sew a quilt made of bricks
filling my bones with sunshine
I hear the springtime
I see what I may become
A monster hidden between blossoms
We live peacefully though, we do
The sound reverberates
How can something be so great?
Run barefoot through the fields, forget who you've become.