The hardest battles fought are against the chaos found within the rubble of the broken.
Any continuation of this experimentation on the human condition hangs on the theory that an upcomin' breath will allow itself to be taken
Gift or not, presently present solely due to the repeat of a heart beat, reminded constantly it's never a given
Many a complication with said blood pumpin' mechanism ribcaged in, to many components either broken or straight missin'
Naturally raisin' an interesting question, does life support support life or allow it to get one last minute jab in
Seems it's a personalization and ******* of the punishment fitted for the crime of lyin' about livin'
Seein' right through the Facebook filter projection, doom sets in without the monitor screens protection
Actin' like spoiled, undisciplined children, often throwin' a tantrum cause we're all on the spectrum
All of us? Yes, everyone.
A nonsensical state of frantic desperation overrides conviction, dignity the next to leave the station
No thought put into what's bein' said even, flippantly askin' for more calendar pages to be added in on the back end
Wildly missin' the irony of spendin' life in line for the next death bed to open, prayin' the priest is well spoken
Choosin' then to allow the soulless prayers to begin, hopin' to pull the wool over the eyes of the creator of all creation
He's up there laughin' and judgin' from heaven, he ain't sendin' help because it's entertainment first, then maybe fit in a lesson
Feels like bein' held in a hostage like situation through a self inflicted condition with a loved ones permission
Ignorin' the DNR written up to eliminate confusion and limit any guessin' 'bout what the dead is thinkin'
Wishin' they'd let go, knowin' they won't though, love can make the right decision impossible to determine
It was always a bogus mission, there's never been no mention of direction much less any talks about a realistic destination
An unorthodoxed tug 'o war, doin' both the pushin' and pullin', can't recall witnessin' a win, I only recognize losin'
The matrix is glitchin', the vale finally lifted as nightmares come to fruition, crowdin' an already distorted vision
Depraved of nutrition, lose sight of ones self in the fog of sleep deprivation
IT'S THE SLEEP THAT LETS THEN IN
In a never endin' hesitation, becomin' one with the comman background vegitation
A threat of slippin' into a comma is beginnin' to look like my very real and inevitable conclusion
The Illusion is crackin' and the illustration behind the fusade is to heavy for some to take in
And if I'm not mistaken it will only worsen for here and we're only here cause you took for granted what will now be taken
WHAT WHERE WE THINKIN'?

©2022

One thing I don't have is that all important "it", I've never possessed "it"
But I'd let "it" possess me just to be allowed the opportunity to feel "it"
But I don't get "it" and I know I won't get "it", I don't understand "it" can't put my finger on"it"
Every aspect of "it" is completely foreign to me and to be honest, to my knowledge, I can't say I've ever even witnessed "it"
Is "it" the forest I can't see through the trees or have I been standing right in front of "it"
Sense of smell can't track "it" with the sent of my own **** on my knees to mask "it"
Completely oblivious to "it". Would do no good to show me "it" cause I'm blind to "it"
I don't trust "it", can't even find "it" to have the opportunity to put my faith in"it"
Actually, I'm not sure if you add to "it", take from "it"or let "it" run "its" course and not touch "it"
There's also a chance that "it" is something I should run and hide from so I'm not sure that if I did get "it" I'd want to keep "it"
Zero knowledge on "it" so no solid opinions can be drawn from "it" but I will say this about "it"
I don't believe "it" nor do I believe in "it", there's so much that I don't know about "it"
Can't achieve "it", never even had a little bit of "it", couldn't ever grasp "it" so "it" was able to get out of hand quick
I guess if you consider **** "it" then I've had a life time full of "it"
Still alive despite of "it", don't know if I defeated "it" or survived "it"
How can I tone "it" down when I'm not even the slightest bit aware of "it"
I only claim to have planned "it" but I've never even had a hand in "it"
I wonder if there is a kit I can get? I don't care if there is assembly required, I need "it"
Well, they need me to need "it"
At least that's what I'm told about"it", try to convince me of "it"
It'd be my luck that I'd get "it" but with no instructions for "it"
On the plus side, you can't lose "it" if you've never had "it"
But standing motionless I'll never get close to "it", maybe I'm afraid of "it"
Please, is there someone there that can explain "it" in simple enough terms to clarify "it"?
No? Then fuuck "it" and the idea of "it", I'm done chasing "it"
Truth be told, I'm not gonna sign for "it",  didn't sign up for "it", never even wanted "it",
Especially if "it" doesn't even exist on this planet, pointless to go after "it", why chance "it"?
So before I could find "it" I'm already done and over "it", can no longer go along with "it"
"It's" behind me, I see "it" clearly in the rearview of my u-haul, I've moved on from "it"
Left "it" at the last rest stop, never to go back to "it" or look back on "it"
Forget about"it", not falling for "it" again, miss me with all that bull shiit...I'm out of "it"

©2018

Not to many have resisted the risk
Hold tightly and lose control through the same clenched fist
Pray for there to be but dread that last kiss
How many have been hurt who weren't on a list
Who gets hit with every miss
Can't run from this
I must confess,
Take a minute here to be honest
I don't know if I can say it's worth the risk

©2023

There's all this talk around me about some profound we that's never found me
They talking a collective we?
One agreed on collectively but conveniently and continuously minus me
Is it the me, myself and I type we? Cause defining a trinity might not unveil anything holy
Or could they be referring to the we that turns to just me when things get a little bit heavy?
That kind of we?
Maybe they mean the we I'm supposed to automatically call family
Even though history will show them as a two faced enemy
Both ones I've picked or have befriended me, eventually it's contempathy from a frienemy
An uninterested we that hardly reciprocates the love that's expected to freely flow from me blindly
What baffles me still is this bloodline we that aren't even aware of me
Or they are aware just unwilling to add me to their we
Coldly my psyche reminds me, "you're nobody's somebody buddy, sorry."
Personally, I say let 'em swing from their positions above and beside me on the family tree
Unfortunately they will always be a part of the conversation when discussing this we
The good, the bad and the ugly represented by said we but projected on me
Now listen closely, I claim to have came to this conclusion organically

There is no we, only me

Nonsense spewed when angry but the me I try to hide visually, the one projecting he doesn't need a we
Cries out for somebody when times get lonely, lies and said I'm my only company
Cause I can not see the we that is meant to be, the we I thought was only a dream of a faded childhood memory
It's not only right in front of me but all around me and already a part of me
I had no idea this door even had a handle for entry with a keyhole much less a key
Apparently it was the skeleton type and had to be pulled out of me
Reality blends with fantasy in the best way, what else is there to say? I've found my we and another reason to be happy

©2023

Only God can help you now and and I don't see him here, do you?
I asked you a question motha plucker!! DO! YOU! SEE HIM?! He's certainly nowhere in my view
What's he gonna do, bust in her on some kind of divine rescue?
Kick the door off the hinges and run through, swoop you up and save you?
As a grown asss man how does that idea not perplex you?
If he exists he's forgotten all about you, he's forsaken all but a few
And the slough of sins you've happened to accrue became an issue
He's turned a deaf ear to every sincere word you've ever cried into that pew
Oh but you've never been alone, the devils there for us all
To answer the desperate call for help when our life's in a free fall
When we pledge to give anything for that one thing we believe to be a cure-all
Turn to an inadamint object for a sec for a possible answer to it all
"Oh magic eight ball...is there even any hope for me at all?"
"Not a chance" reads on the small dice, that's when you offer up your small life
Hand over your soul and heart packaged nice in a Ziploc bag full of ice
And at that percice moment he hands over your dreams but at a price
As eventually the good days splice off giving way, showing your sacrifice
A new nightmare trasnforms from your paradise, what once was used to entice
Turns to a vice that's twice as powerful when used as an evil device
And of course, by then, it's far to late to stop this from happenin'
The Lord's furry captured by a heathen stolen through the Golden gate, taken from heaven
Good heavens, where's Chris Evens? We need the captain
But a heros shield held by a broken zero is a domed zeppelin
Soooooo...I win, dark beats light again
I've racked up so many that we should change that old time sayin'
The one about how light always trumps dark cause I leave no question
Leave no doubt in anybody's mind that good doesn't always come out the champion
If you've ever watched any wrestlin' you've seen that the heel or the villian
Gets his hand raised often, over and over again and god willin'
I'll can keep continuin' this stylin', profilin', limousine ridin', jet flyin', kiss-stealin', wheelin' n' dealin' with a little added blood spillin' till my will 'n passion come unfastened or to an abrupt end
That's your only hope so I hope it doesn't ever happen

©2023

What. Just. Happened?
I'm still here, in the throes of terror, probably forever, but that was close
I don't know how many more of those devastating blows from life's twisted episodes I can take before I get exposed and everybody knows that this smile's a fake, adorned like over warn costumes on Broadway shows
A mangled backdrop set prop to keep from view that I got behind the scenes woes
With each smile the lie grows
Gotta live with this Pinocchio nose
Black out curtains dress the windows so the only parts of me I expose are silhouette shadows
Like house siding, I stack the facade till a barrier grows
It adds curb appeal and social value I suppose
But for me it's a false face to hide the lows
Getting me through this reality that blows
A life time of running into doors with a sign reading "sorry we're closed"
Hanging next to the mandatory posted notice of demolition proposed
Life's ultimate plan to bulldoze any happy settlement till all that's left are foreclosed burrows
Unwelcoming ghettoes
A real to life Gotham City narrows
Every one knows **** flows down stream and my life's the delta where it all goes
Rainbows triggering everyday psychos
Sorrows flicker by like sickening slideshows
Arms and legs strewn all around, some separated from torsos
From heros to zeros, no back again as I decompose into the shallows

It's basically not a place anybody would actually choose to be
But when it's your own psyche it's hard to see any way out of the intensity that will always accompany insanity
And no one can hear your inner voice plea for much needed mercy
Beging to be set free but this inescapable captivity is your eternity
So wait, is this outcome then a certainty?
A destiny unremarkably average and already planned out for me?
It certainly seems to be
Especially now that I see clearly that comedy lies within my tragedy
But only because hindsight is 20/20
In the moment nothing's funny
A well lit path is not part of my journey
Mines a lifetime walked through a dark ally
The thoughts that emerge from the shadows come in a hurry, a savage flurry of the eire
Physically consumed with how badly this could turn out for me
Any second I could come face to face with an enemy sent by a deity with the soul purpose to immediately end this agony but I can guarantee I'm not that lucky

It's a shame this evil never left after it came
The residual, dry back shot residue stain and remain after every time I'm ******, but those rinse off in the rain that came all the same
Causing me to claim I'll never see life the same
Now docile and tame, a king slain by his own sword, self inflicted pain
My shelf life would be considered inhumane
A body originally set to be a temple now unlivable domain
Why is it the opposite I hear 'em saying when it comes to the brain of the insane?
What I can't figure out is what's there to gain keeping me here on this plane?
An existence broken and lame, no highs, no fame
No title bout, no championship game
I'd like to say it's done in vain but the fact is maybe this is where I'VE chosen to remain
But if there is no one to blame, to frame, to claim did this to me then the chain that holds me here I should be able to explain away so I don't know how to explain why I stay

And I always find myself stubbornly staying in this mindset like I'm developing the onset of stalk home syndrome
Eventually the environment seems normal but it's a Truman show dome
Entertainment at the expense of a grown man condoned
And the freedom shown is an illusion cause there's only so far you are able to rome
It never occurred to me that it was strange to be in this place alone
At first, while trying to escape, I wore my finger tips to the bone
But now I've got it so bad that I call this catacomb home
No land line phone, no WiFi hotspot zone
Cut off from the outside inside this prison of skull and bone
It's getting harder to tell as the problems begin to become overgrown
My flaws are blown out of proportion as they engulf my preset headstone
It seems so obvious that I shouldn't be here, I deserve a permanent place in a corner alone with a dunce cap cone or next to the rest labeled drone.
And I'm pretty sure I've waited to long to atone so the best I can hope for now are some ruby slippers or the larger piece of the wishbone

©2018

A new found enjoyment, not heaven sent
Still drawn to it like a moth to a flame

Don't share in my regret, promise to stay distant
I couldn't bare to see you in this much pain

Find me ambivalent to some extent
To take another step if it's in vain

Notice I'm hesitant to place a bet
L's stack shame on top of shame atop my name

Life itself's a debt, lest we forget
The plot and grave are one in the same

A dark passenger resident denise me residence
How did I lose access to my own brain

To myself I'm a threat, morality bent
Just so I'm not always going against the grain

Don't care 'bout bein' relevant, never permanent
But pain finds a way to remain

No clue what it meant is a poor argument
Would rather not waste time trying to explain

One day you might get it, wouldn't count on it
Strange to be your very own ball and chain

Go 'head and attempt it, see no safety net
You WILL become one with the terrain

Flesh and bone, neck and neck racing to pavement
Then witness the insane riddled membrane

Always defiant, against my better judgement
Probably should have stayed in my own lane

No deterrent to embracing my inner deviant
A full embrace of the profane

Won't seek atonement, least not at the moment
I only wish the only option was to remain

There's a death certificate, a signed suicide document
The growing black mark on my heart is more than a stain

So here I sit, trying to make sense of it
Unknown, alone and forgotten out in the rain

Selfimprisonment, a life sentence recipient
The issues with my DNA, infecting every strain

©2023

Enjoy the mocking tick after tock from the clock as the hands race monotony just to land on a preoccupied spot, no over shot
Reality not taught, reason is a subplot, lost in translation was the caveat, what's the grand plan for this life span time forgot
Avoiding deaths cousin, the sandman, only shortened the journey to the grand finale at the bottom of a grave plot, a hateful fate fought
Thought I ought not move to avoid falling through the bottom of all rock bottoms due to the dry rot, a quicksand sandbox in back of Salems lot
Rescue or recovery a long shot, no one within earshot but there's an onslaught of inner dialogue piercing the void like the scream of a red hot teapot
As is common with the distraught I sought help from the cold embrace of a slipknot that grew taut through the progression of this thrown together plot of a should've been cancelled pilot
Don't ask me what I see in this blind study of an inkblot, any sanity you got would crumble if caught up in the web of nightmare fuel my own mind went ahead and brought
Forced to boycott my being, can't connect good story lines, lost a dot, popped a squat in a thousand watt recliner like a pre-programmed self destruct robot
Self-preservation an afterthought, miles out to sea before I realized I've not yet bought a yacht, treading water in a tough spot
Messed around and got so high I got caught in the sky like a drifting astronaut lost in space, tethered to a dead cosmonaut
A crackpot juggernaut of supreme disappointment, walk the walk and take a potshot at a what not to do mascot
Cross my i's and dot t's with the underutilized comic sans faunt that don't nobody want, awoken by the taunt of a witching hour haunt
"Fuuck the record and fuuck the people!" like you heard from Snot, you'll probably be hearing it from me a lot
Before I become a forget-me-not long forgot but go or stay, either way, still dangerous as a traveling blood clot
The good fight was not fought, this life was not sought, everyone seems to have it together, I'm the biggest have not on the block
Do with that what you will, I'm going on a long walk down a short dock with a giant rock in each sock
Then the plan is to mock god to his face and see the shock on his face as I say I could do better and see if I get the morning stars spot

I mean, why not? It's worth a shot

©2023