The seats are empty;
The theatre is dark;
Why do you keep on acting?
There’s no one keeping mark.

Each step analyzed;
Each line rehearsed;
What tricks are you playing?
Trapped in an eternal curse.

These masks to hide fears;
These laughs to contain sadness;
Who are you when you’re not pretending?
Careful not to thread into madness.

Fighting Spirit

To fight—
You need balance.
To balance—
You require
a platform
to stand upon.

Pull out the floor beneath you,
You have nothing
when you're pushed down—
unable to get up,
Turning the ground beneath
Into seeping sand,
that keeps you on your knees
With nothing to stand on.

My fighting spirit
has vanished.
No longer
Can I pull the wool over my eyes,
pretend I have ground beneath me,
make the wind my friend,
pretend I can fly.

This foundation
that once held me up—
came from voices
that made me feel protected,
hands that held,
ones that made me feel included.
They were meant for me—
and only me.

Quietly,
the wind turned cold.
Hands turned pale,
afraid to touch.
Scared to let the bones bind
and the voices ring.

All that can be done now
Is finding new souls
That can push me
to build something
Thats built for growth
Shaped to show—
How far ive come.
Helping me evolve,
With every brick
That goes into place.

Maybe teach people who surround me
What it means to—
Fall and rise agian

Forge something impenetrable
Never lose that fire inside of you
To keep living
Keep failing,
But still be able to get up
Not a dent in your armor,
Proving you dont give up.

Restore a foundation thats a mine,
Brick by brick,
Making back what you lost,
Assemble what I lost
Only this time
Something only I can unravel.

Days melt into each other
Like wax figures under the sun
Monday was four days ago
I could swear it was Tuesday today
8:00AM was one hour ago,
It’s 8:00PM
What did I eat today?
The pain of tomorrow

.
i made the front door my enemy
staying inside to concentrate
               on written projects
i devilled away days                    
exorcised away my rights
                to the world out there

now (with projects complete)    
i approach the door
     theorize that I am wanted beyond 
                      to receive sustenance
                       and be free of my aches ...

... or
      to become sustenance                      
give in to my condition
      to pass back my remaining value   
hand in my report        
           with the staples removed
be resolved                                  
as some gaseous defeat

i bravely open the door             
there is no attack by nature
nor any euphoric reward
       i am left alone to feel my own way
to give and receive breaths
                steps are taken                                           
and signals interpreted
rejoining the world                    
as if uninterrupted