when words fail you
silence smothers you
fears surround you
you borrow inside yourself


                   waiting


                              till that special friend

                         brings you back

your heart and mind

I try to be a good person
But probably I've let you down
And upset you countless times
Not to mention
The one I will feel most guilty about,
Dying.

We're both bad.
We've seen the devil and asked if we can have this dance with a smile.
Looking back at my life on the streets, the life that never left me.
Fist fights and blood, oldies and guns.
You seem to know me.
You look like me.

You traveled through a secret life that I want to unlock.
You took the other road to walk.
But when you talk your words sound like my memories.
You sound like you know low down *****
You sound like your calling them out.
Call me and tell me all about it.

I'll tell you all about it when I see you.
Stories about sleeping on floors,
Crying in front of shutting doors,
Beating a homie to the floor
For touching my body because we know it's yours.

Tell me about your hell.
And I'll let you into mine.
Tell your story with some heart
And I'll give you mine.

Some years ago I fell off a cliff.
Somewhere between the mazes of memory and thought
I have lost my mind in time.
I have lost pieces of my soul in the moments of my life that provided the bricks that made up a skeptical foundation in my heart.
Layered in an angry mortar the emotional bricks settled into the walls that make up the fortress that surrounds my heart.
The cracks that riddle my skull are a specialized Victorian texture technique- I wonder if you can afford it?
The clocks on my walls are tired and my curtains are tattered.
Over time my fortress has withered.
I watch it morph its shape in the mirror day by day.
I watch the laugh lines settle around my frown.
Day after day,
The mirror inhales my youth.
My bed absorbs my tired weight.
And the dragon's head mounted on my door wards off the company.

Sometimes I wish that someone would notice the dull death sitting in my eyes
Or even share the same lament that sits on my lips.
But day after dull day my bones go into autopilot and
My mind needs to stay detached
Because when the lights are on and it looks like someone is home
That someone is drowning in a graveyard of memories