Desecrated and shredded
I walk the asphalt collecting the confetti that is my heart,
Hope the celebration landed you in higher spirits
And when the proof catches up to tingling limbs
You fall from your cloud,
To crash back to reality,
You are a horrible human.

Undo the locks,
Release these iron nails,
Keeping the deep dark at its gravely bay
Let my horns rip through flesh
Teeth sharpen into daggers,
Lips blacken like charcoal,
The skin reddens and hardens.

I warned,
With the subtly of a distant storm
Whispers and calmness in words gifted
Hoping you would spare your visage,
Yet you demanded recompense
In tithes, you could not afford,
And now the tide comes.

You once spoke of existence,
How it paralleled your inability to feel past indifference
As if I could ever conceptualize blabbering words
To make sense of the gibberish and absurd
The obscure way the fabrics of reality weave in and out,
Desolately decimating credible certainty
I am unfamiliar with the language
But too acquainted with the scars they leave.

So you sit, afar,
And know that the time wars on
Waning what was left of my sanity,
My life was brevity,
And as brief as it was, this breathing haiku
I know what I wish then I knew….

Hell is real,
And she looks just like you.

I am drawn beyond repair,
My marbled pillars failing,
And every shallow breath I take—
The ticking of a worn-out watch,
Winding down
until it’s still.
It’s not death that harries me,
But the trifling cares of life—
Fissured webs
beneath my facade,
That weaken my weary frame,
Meant to support
this edifice.
The sleepless debts,
the silence,
Erode the stony structure,
Once defined by rigid lines,
Now smoothed by sandpaper winds,
Marring all former identity.
I cannot tell you how long
Before the coming crumble,
And I’m crushed
under the burden,
Pressing heavy
upon my mind.
Till nothing remains but
the gravel and bone,
of a starved poet.
©️2025

Click clack
Sliding of beads
So therapeutic
To see how this became that
What makes up the whole
                           Touch each fraction

No need for equation of form
To find value of one emotion
                               Against a known
Or
Tangents
Or
Ometries
When the only calculus of interest
                                    Is sum of self

my mistakes i see
clearly good deeds are empty
why

the wisdom of speed
mind is underdown and deep
it tells you listen

They enter my home,
Cheap suits, bad cologne.

We talk, endlessly
Needing to break for water,
Laughter and short jokes
But the tone never truly shifts.

I hand them the keys
So they can open the doors
Chat histories explored,
Timelines secured,
Screenshots validated

They ask me if I feel threatened,
I protest that while I do the focus should remain on kids
They offer information not yet known,
I take in the aroma of such sweet tea
And drink it down with a knowing nod.

They show me things not yet seen,
And I confirm the rhetoric used to abuse this barely teen.

They thank me for my time,
And I am greeted by another offensive word
Of cheap cologne.

The walls get smaller for a predator
When they become the prey
You can fool yourself into finding Jesus
But the law won't let you get away if you pray

The walls close in on a cyber-stalker
See the news has broken all over the place,
And you took the liberty to threaten me while they were over the shoulder
How do you feel knowing that it's almost over?

The walls are closing in
And the arms are breaking through,
Soon you'll smell the scent of cheap perfume and cologne
And once the dark shadows rip you from your skin
Know that the monster you chase is the one in the mirror
If truly sober, homer, d'oh yourself while tyring to see clearer.

The wheels of justice move slowly.