Tempestuous pestilence of manic depressive tendencies invested in a message cocked and loaded as a centerpiece

           Unfold it, if you will,

   The beast lives in these pages
  While the people all went home to their own separate cages
Locks become phones that never ring
  No bars but still encasing, these cells are in our genes
   Its a prison of DNA strands unlocked with a paper key*
    Held firm by *words written within the world awaits to see

Inspiration strikes a sadness in my mind
Lightening fires of truth so bright I go blind
Wide awake yet dreaming of another time
Another place where things used to be fine
But in the back of my mind, where that inspiration strikes, I feel alive and alone in the sadness that overwhelms me at times, surrounded by the dream floating behind my eyes uncontrollably, bouncing off my mind getting ideas of time and space and distances between two places, satisfaction and depression, a thin line rests between my eyes, like a target, the bullseye is my soul and it's slowly disintegrating with every shot, look and insult fired my direction.
I'm losing control.
And my dreams are gaining ground, taking over and my reality is lost in the background.
My soul can no longer hear a sound.
I think I've died.
I've tried to come back around, telling myself it'll be alright.
But I lied.

I am the poetry that breathes words into your mind.
I fill up blank spaces with encouraging lines.
I possess no magic powers to turn back time.

I am the poetry that brings back childhood fears.
I speak the truths you're not sure you wanna hear.
I clarify emotions that were previously unclear.

I am the poetry that digs deep to tear at the soul.
Once I enter you, you can never be whole.
Without the words inside you, you feel so cold.

I am the poetry that tries to hold back time.
Keep the body frozen but activate the mind.
Using line after line to make you all mine.

I am the poetry that flows through your veins.
That proves how much I love you, day after day.
I help keep your sanity, when you think you're going insane.

I am the poetry that floats in front of your eyes.
Always surrounding you, seeing through your every disguise.
I know everything you think, I know all your lies.

I am the poetry until the day you die.

there's a special grace about the way it flows
in and around, back again
with a certain sound, there it goes
twisting through to the end

Dragging my knuckles* on the sidewalk
      I find myself hoping for a *spark
     that would confirm my mechanical makeup
        Titanium and servos buried mere inches beneath faux flesh
        Scraping concrete

         *Friction, it would seem,
           is the only force powerful enough to reveal me to myself