Four walls of a home
without architect
***** sides of a prison
with no shape of escape.

At first I resist
only after lengthy initiation
do I break upon the tiles
and finally accept the drywall.

Rage turns into mumbled mantra
shelter me, protect me
so I never know my true age.

In time---
you will become both:
my greatest strength and weakness
until my body leans the same way as you
broken planks of wood,
plaster covered with human sheen
As sacrilegious as a sweat stain---
against a polished gold frame.

My voice...
will fade from lack of use.

As one timid word becomes two
two forms a dependent relationship
that gives birth to premature three
and the shape of unhealthy four---
crafts the walls,
and erodes the decrepit foundation
of what I am now.

A waltz begins
and I bow low
to some unseen partner.

The wind picks up the music
and our bodies spin and twirl;
as the branches of the trees
snap its fingers in time.

The canopy of the heavens open above us
stars streak across the landscape
to highlight our forms,
and celebrate our silhouettes
as we glide past.

These horrible grinning things
Some how---
they know me.

They come closer to invade my space
without warning
with loaded handshake and contagious kiss

I have no camouflage
I'm a bird caked statue
I'm a deer paralyzed in the headlights.

Maybe---
like my gently rotting teeth
if I ignore them
eventually, they'll go away.

Sometimes---
I just don't know
I just say I'm fine
when really I'm not
my soul is on fire
screaming on the inside
and my sense of worth is shot.

Sometimes---
I don't know
what makes me breathe each day
the hand that stirs the ***
the urge that pushes me to the end
I have never seen this book being written
perhaps I am just waiting to transcend.

Allow me to borrow your golden halo
agree to let me purchase your soul
every thing that shines has a silver price
every one who walks the earth must know
nothing sacred remains here
there is no more holy ground
crusaders and pilgrims alike have all faded
and the world has muted its siren sound

The deepest cut
is the first
then the one that follows
I find that I am tired
as my essence puddles out
crimson tears form in the well
and become a weeping waterfall
of wasted life and battered choices
I want to take it back---
but the redness of me,
breaks free
seeking to be exposed to the outside
and remain uncaged from weakness.

My life is on the tethered line
as I watch you go by
dirt caked, through dusty eyes
on those legs that have no restraints.

Those young ones leave the yard
and return to it without issue
I am amazed
there is nothing chained to them.

Why do I have chains...
What is my purpose...
Where is my master's presence...

These questions do little to give me warmth
as the earth gathers around me
and collects inside my nostrils.

I keep the seasons in my fur
And snow and leaves cover me
Like a ***** blanket.

Where is my kind master...
He brought me here
to share this life
then deserted me
just out of reach
I think of you as God
so please don't cast me aside.

I'll sit here as faithful servant
beside my empty bowl
and pray some more
for the master to return
when my tears turn to mud
I will know
that I have been on my leash
far too long.