There is goodness inside
somewhere---
I know this to be true
my horns can hold up a halo,
and the light shines evenly on me too.

Urges can be suppressed
just as sins can be forgiven;
priests can be measured
like condemned sinners,
when hands are finally opened
and stained palms are turned upward.

I hurt
each day
both inside and outside
forever quiet to the world
trapped within this suit of flesh
and that is all I'll ever know

The irony
of this life
happens when I comfort you
Whenever I am doing so
I take nutrients from me
as the wound festers deeply
and continues to darkly grow.

I'm bruised
I'm broken
tired
outspoken
looking for a purpose
wondering what my worth is
angry
confused
and so afraid to lose
everything I've gained
until nothing else remains.

I was a son
born without protective shield
given a borrowed name
and no confidence to yield.

For years I loathed my own skin
no kind word did I find
your attention turned to someone else
and your eyes became blind.

I wish I could hate you
with your earthly presence gone
it is cavernous inside me now
between evening shade and dawn.

I still hold that fear
that buried thorn I didn't see
afraid that the product of you
might become the whole of me.

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.