Sweet soul
Yesterday's gone.
There's fields ahead
Baby, stretch your legs.
This bright face
This tender heart.
Keep close the sun
Keep their words apart.

Grounded me earthside
Fingers of twine

Pulled me from him
Steadied my spine

Fingers of dread
Waiting, waiting

Pointing to the door
Aching, aching

Tap my sternum
Baby's lullaby

Help me breathe
Write me right

I was the idiot clown watching the well-suited circus

It was at the 14th tooth whistle that my brain said goodbye

So many words had died and were forced to the front of her mouth

I scanned her face with intrigue

Such formality had caused deep ravines to form around her eyes, her lips

She had signed and surrendered her personality for this job years ago

Perhaps it was the price she paid to be found worthy of listening to

I wondered if she in a small corner of her home loved to turn inside out. Dance.

I wondered

Before being interrupted with another ambiguous, impossible question

But I couldn't care, just as her voice couldn't care

The circus was still in session.

I circle the abyss,
It does not speak.

I cry for it to answer,
It does not speak.

I am never alone,
It is always there.

I arrive in hot earnest,
But leave in warm care.

Those condemn me to it,
See only me in a dress.

They don't see it behind me.
They don't hear my footsteps.

So I do not speak,
When I am alone

And it does not speak,
But we both know.

Too much
For too long

Hurricane head winds
Head strong.

There's a socket
Unlit fuse

Movement's a'brewing
Missing a muse

I am hated
I am confusing
I am confused
But still refusing.

Too much
For how long?

Chase your tail
Chase your tail
Heel on neck
She will prevail

Sacrilegious fun times
Cowardly Sundays
Spent in mourning
Singing hymns about crimes

Nights of hedonism
Days of dissociation
Baby birthed a daughter
Before opening her legs
To leftism

Douse the unbelievers
And pass the match
Watch them light us up
In self-righteousness

Spit at us cruel kindness
To bathe us in false prophecy
Ready devices of your fathers
Pointed in hypocrisy

Chase your tail
Chase your tail
No longer master
She is your hell.

There are days I merely exist.

I breathe, I beat
I eat.

The whir of passing cars
Is all I hear.

Those days I play no role.

My hands are empty of purpose,
My thoughts sleep.

My body is neutral
Neither beautiful nor wrong.

I am nothing,
Yet something.

It is messily forced upon me
To shut up and watch.

I gaze out and over life.
It stares back,
Consuming me.