It's just a thing.
An idea.
Washing up on the shores.
Of oblivion.
As the surf presses forth.
Does this enigma grow limbs.
Tearing away from the stream of consciousness there of.
A schism indeed.
For it is hastily trying to retrace what was inevitably.
Washed away.
Gasping.
Fighting for a right to.
Be.
And as it does in all youth.
A plague of indecisive arrogance pollutes the well.
This gyser of melevolant guile.
Spew forth facts.
For living is to conform.
Assimilate.
Render the barcode.
As the sewage of self depletes upon the masses.
Who needs oceans.
When we are all dying to drown.
In ignorance.

By every stitch awkwardly placed.
Does there linger a sting.
A colorless.
Vastness.
Of nothing.
A space.
Larger than any ravine.
Boundless.
Where even the brightest smile.
Drowned.
It was here.
In this same collection of wavering resolve.
A new smile was born.
Of lust.
And piercing wales.
One that fit ever so perfectly.
Tears and pain cascade through.
Yet it remained.
Begging.
Wretching.
Playing with this notion of spite.
And torture.
The blade driven by ones own hand.
Is the very one that knows this darkness all to well.
Hiltless.
Does it dive deeper.
And the black ooze finds a home.
In the abyss beyond.
For this.
Is the viciousness desired.
A circle of ridicule.
And tumble end over end.
Smile intact.
Mind.
Shambles..

Let us commerate this tragedy.
Soil our hearts with fascist taunts and pointed fingers.
Let us put our hands together and bow.
Good, everyone is still standing.
Praise be to nothing.
There can only be one.
And none of these heathens shall strip me of what's due.
For having lived a tough life.
Or fallen from loves favor.
Search yourself for justification.
Another excuse.
To make the day go by a little faster.
With a world filled with sinners.

What.
Can one person really do.
Change.
Anything at all?

For even the previous days.
Turned a blind eye.
Consuming.
Alluding..
Resuming
Right when the ground became solid again.
Regret just bellow the aching mealstrom.
Even as we embark on that familiar road.
And then all that's left to do.
Is to look towards the furture.
As we blink for the past.

The river seems to have calmed.
This bend.
Fragrant and alluring.
Has made me a part of its course.
The demon inside is becoming.
Restless.
This harmony.
Must desire destruction.
What being doesn't want havoc to come.
Raze over the bright colorful paint.
With knives and bullets.
Leaving behind hatred and sarcasm.
I tremble.
Through fear.
Not of what I knew what was.
But because I.
Didn't want to cast a single rock into the reflective surface.
Not even move.
For a single motion would surely cause this peace.
To ripple away.
I must die to myself.
Find the balance needed.
I have overcome the rapids that ****** me into disarray.
Shredded here and there from the blade like stones that lined the shore.
What is a little pain.
To truly gain what is wanted.
When the torrent of agony and distress was never.
Wanted.
So I lie my weary head back.
Close my eyes for the first time in years.
And listen.
For trying to steer has done nothing thus far.
Maybe it was time.
To let the river guide me.
So.
I smile.
And exhale.
As the sun kisses my body with its warmth.
Another first..

I chose.
And still choose.
Where my next step will land
Or fall..
                                                          ­            Asunder
Torn                        
                                                                ­Eviscerated
Stiched.

With the same tools.
Of the same hand.
Of two minds.
Of canvas like attributes.
....
I will be strong.
You will be quiet.
I will drag us back through hell.
You will listen.
I. Am.

Wholely tainted.
With views askew.
While I truly never knew.
When these eyes switched and feinted

Took the wheel.
Battered the interior and exterior.
Threw away all in his reach to feel.
Berating and beating i the inferior.
.
..
...
And now
With eyes of black and brown.
Do they see.
Witness
Hole.
Whole.
A future.
Distant and cloudy.
But right.
There.
This well only knew the depths of dry darkness.
Yet a fountain springs fourth.
For the sun never felt so warm.
Filling my being.
Eyes refocused.
The black gate still lie somewhere beyond.
We nod to each other.
This journey.
This quest.
This.
Isn't.
Over.

Everything was so simple.
The drive was there.
With excess in the tank.
The world would blur by.
Melding.
Faces and hours.
Until time was nonexistent.
A plethora of empty bottles and bags.
Strewn across the vacant sky.
With friends like stars.
Casting a light from so far off.
And as present as such.
Routine restrained me.
Trained me.
Becoming more helpless with every misguided night.
Chasing a freedom that I dreamt up so long ago.
So many left turns.
Sirens chastised the fragile hope I gripped so tight.
And as it turned to sand in my hands.
Watching it all fall away.
I couldn't help but wonder..
Why.
What did it matter.
With anger surging from the deepest part of my blackened soul.
Did living turn into surviving.
Then into apathy.
So I unfastened the harness.
Turned the volume past maximum range.
Flipped the switch to overdrive.
And readied myself for the next collision.
The only constant I could ever rely on.