Step it up
Step it up to the bars
Break through so I dont break down
Quit asking how long it will take
Start paying attention to the steps as you escape now
That dungeon
Lonely cerebellum
Celebrity status dwelling
Inhaling stale stagnant smoke
A magnetizing choke
As the **** ties tantric knots iside your throat
Thoughts float from the dark
Poke and **** the slot to the key of happiness

Do I regress?*
If I regret my next step
Or do I stay in the night
Crying I wished I'd try
Into a broken mic
Downtrodden eyes
Staring at a life with my body nothing but a reason to build a shadow behind a hollow object

No.
There is a force inside of me
A silent tide in me
Feeding a violent seed
Raising a timeless tree
Etchings proclaiming I'm poetry
Lasting forever
Engrained internally
The grains absorbing the light
The limbs moving towards
The beautiful afternoon rays

A few months ago
I was counting the days
until you left
because your lack of presence
would have been a better present
than the one you didn't give me
for my birthday this year

Every night I would wait
for the day to come
when you wouldn't be near
as if your body was in my bed
pressing down on my chest
until I could no longer breathe

Hating your best friend
will not hurt them
but it will twist your own heart
in ways you never thought possible
and you will pray on stars with fingers crossed
that it might break
or better
stop beating

Absence makes the heart grow fonder
and the tears in our blanket
and the tears in our eyes
have been thoughtlessly mended
with intertwined fingers
in basement bathrooms of bars
we couldn't find again
with a map to guide us

Tomorrow you'll leave me
and move on to adventures
more exciting
than drunk searches
for familiar faces
on streets we could draw perfectly
with blurred vision

I hate to say I'll miss you
and I hate more to see you go
but your darkness was always
darker than mine
and your light was always
too bright for me to look at
so I hope the contrast
of the rainy days and the sunshine
fills you up
in a way nothing else ever has

You were born to fly away
but never given the chance
so I hope you find
that the airplane wings
fit you just right

I hope you accidentally leave
the little broken pieces of yourself
on the cobblestone in London
and in the fountains of Rome
and do not realize it
until you return home

I wish you the best
and the same for myself
because two flowers
cannot grow
in one ***
but if grown separately
they can one day
make a beautiful bouquet

Befriended street lamps' static hum
Timed steps slashed through electric buzz
Fled from the dawn's grey stain
chased night with anxious breath
                                              erupting
Out­flanked and pinned down
                                         by the days

Strike up the band, roisin the bows.
Compose another tired piece.
I dread the melody
and cringe away
                              from the next movement
I'm only up for burned out wandering.

     Another balance overdue
Took out a loan for time well spent
     Roll out the carpets for the doomed
It's unforgiving turf where our steps are bent

I'll draw these lines
     of ghostly profile night
and coax the specters out
We'll roll on with the tides
     where we can dance macabre
until the core unwinds.

Defend the fort for sleeping ghosts
I'll man these walls until the dawn.
I'll fight these memories
beneath the banner of
                                  some others
Shell-shocked with gun arm
                                  growing sore

Outside, the sidewalks glow red-orange
I throw my shadow on the sparks.
Charred homes on cindered streets
I draw my bow
                           across shaking half notes
Chart out a map of burnt meanderings.

     Default on friendships I misplaced
I'm wrapped tight in familiar fear.
     But I'll warm to those familiar strains...
Because it's 5 o'clock somewhere, and Summer's here...

I'll cross the lines
     into the ghostly night
and wake the specters up
As fires kiss the night
     so I can sleep real sound
and let my core unwind.

Condotti, Setting in a street named after someone mysterious in this century, or what more no one cares, filled with history, cared by the worst and the best hidden stories, those streets are filled with voices of the past mixed with noises of the future, siting here in the steps of *Condotti staring at the people that about to become from the past, at the people that will be the study of the most mysterious and un-logic humanity, even me i'll be one of those lost voices that been lost in the streets of Condotti.

To whom it may concern:

Inaction speaks louder than Words,
And we were taken by contentment.
A powerful State.
Abused by those who will.
Against those who won't.

A bombardment of Distraction,
Covering fire
Stopping help from arriving.
From those other people.
Those others.
Somewhere.

If only the world were a place,
Where being content wasn't dangerous.

But it's not my problem.

Someone else will do something.

Yours truly,
         Someone