Navigate sewers
swinging dagger,
poor, poor poo rats.
Clout is the end
all be all means.
This is the beginning.

Tavern town, invite me in.
Odd jobs for experience.
Not long after, gold pieces.
Make my way, eternal ring.

Navigate mansions
slinging war spells,
poor, poor private (army).
Clout is the end
all be all means.
This is the rise.

Tell me, now, I'm slipping into
myself like I always do.
I see the needle point.
How many times will it run us
through?

Tired, now, of the games you play.
I need a heart to communicate.
Tired, now, of the games you play.
I need a heart to trust.

Moving less toward the past
than to the future.
God save my ghost.

Drilling lanes into my flesh
by turning the screws.
Tighten my plates.

Before I know it
come undone again,
eager for the dawn's
heavy noose.

Bowing as a point
to the morningstar,
witness, sufferer,
bane and boon.

Often, I think back.
Grip on the childhood
uncurls, slowly.
If the muscles don't fail,
bones will break. Oh,
Did you ever get
over your neglect?
Comes and goes,
Bexis, comes and goes.
Too high an expectation,
receive your input
and your feedback.
Grip on my childhood
memories loosens,
sudden. In your descent,
you grow terminal.
Your heart beats so hard
it might rip through
your ribs to fly upward,
back to the summit.
All your love, it is not lost, I
lap you up, still.
Is this separation unreal?
I can never figure out if
I'm naive or cynical,
if I'm worthy or worthless.
How did you feel,
when with me?
How did I feel,
when with you?
If the muscles don't fail,
bones will break.
If we play with what's at stake,
will we ever learn and grow?
And if so, is it worth this grinning ghost?
We'll make it,
either way.

i hope one day you
find a place
that doesn't leave you
feeling
homesick.

•|||°

Accept the flaws in myself,
lasso the breadth
of my errors
with no regret.

I believe there's a switch
where the matter
lives in a state
of yes or no.

Commit to the wind in word,
I won't wrestle
control from
anyone but me,
and my worst self.

Empathy on high,
Sympathy on low,
Compassion on,
for transparency.
Compassion off,
for sympathy play.

I am not a means,
I am a world.

My worth
is not measured
in the weight
of my faith in
and the care I take
of others.

On my way to this place
what were some traits that I missed
recognizing as my own things?
I can't separate my own from your things.
That's always been my great undoing.
I lose control of my self so quickly.
Once looking like a dove, I become
oil slick and grounded in a swamp,
where the flighty thing becomes a being
made up of the rant and the cry and the yell,
*****, not as a state, but as the state of things.
I can't separate my own from your things.
Now I'm alone. I'm alone. And I feel.
This bird's alone for the first time.
On my way to this place, I've hurt
and I've caused big hurt. Now I'm free to see
through these eyes, all alone.
Now I'm alone. I'm alone. And I feel
Like myself. Purified.

This a song for me.
It's a song for the others, too.

We know who we are.
And if we don't, we will,

It's only timing.
If you look into the eyes

And witness unveiling,
This is a song for you.

Broadcasting Now. . .

Your self is you.
(reject the ones at odds)
Self is your truth.
(the predators you choose)
Truth is self love.
(prey on your sense of self)
Love is within.
(you're not a monster)
You,
(you're not a monster)
You,

See hidden knives,
Apparently.

Broadcasting Now. . .

This is a song for me.
This is a song for you.

Fingertip
dipped
in white
powder,

My visage
drawn
with black
grease paint,

Who am I now?
Have I been the same?
What validity is there
to your lover's claims?

I've become the goblin king,
so who am I to want to heal myself,
when my self and its persistent sick
continue to do their poisoning?

Buck naked,
drenched
with sweat,
dancing.

My brain
quenched
by my
purpose.

Move and move.
Strike, tow, bend,
twist, and snake the lines.

There's a truth beneath the truth
that first surfaces, the truth as it exists
without a spin from prying minds.

To obscure the err to serve the ego
splits your merger with heavy veils.

Have you no shame?
I must know shame,
and accept shame's
innate dark side,

where shame is fruitless.