The harrowing angst,
Of night soon come to close.
And the anxiety of a new day,
What troubles does it hold?

The weight that doesn't stop, but only grows
Pressure on my neck, shoulders, collar bones.
Peace of mind, and a piece of the pie;
What more could I ask for?

A restful sleep, for but a night-
One where I am not tormented by all that has taken its course,
And every steer of the rudder
That veered me farther into the unknown.

Fog on the glass,
I rise and fall
With the tides of passion.
And in spite of it all
I still tried to make it on time to class
But always ended up in detention,
Why mention?
When I was out of school, I was at work
Cuts on the saw, eyes in the crook of a book.
Lunchtime was a good opportunity for lessons;
So they excused my absences and exempted my attendance.

Don't die on a hill
You are really only familiar with,
By name.

All the same,
Life is our own to live.

If you choose to lead it
With half-thought ideas;
You have only yourself to blame.

there are parts of you
on my bedside table
crumpled napkins
a negative test
I'm just a place
a comfort
a space
because it's easier
and it's safe
I'm filling the hole of someone you already know
you're filling the hole of something that I don't have the definition for

All of the little ways-
I don't even like to say your name.
Not because of some control or power,
But because of who you are.
And I wish I could say
I want this to last forever
But I miss you with no measure
And the emptiness I feel-
Dying would surly prove better.
All the little lies
Told to myself, that keep me together-
Can't hold on forever

Dull ruts and periodic lulls, cast
Iron wrought.
A life of sea salt;
Choking on ocean foam, walking
On rusty bones
Sifting through ashes.
It's all growing old

Call me an animal,
Don't stand between me
And a fresh cut of meat

Hard to believe, we're the same mammal
In a stand-off, with one who bleeds
But not like me

Of that same air
Our lungs take in, we both breathe in
Scents of a different breed

**** your homogenies
Don't need a lecture on my biology
And you can keep your philosophy
If it comes from a book riddled with prophecy

Wicked kind of dichotomy.
In a country that pushes for peace
But funds war,
Who is it for?

Not the ones fighting
Not the ones dying