Silently, "I need to tell you something."
I approach. Falter, walk away.

I need to break this bond I have with silence,
This unhealthy affair I have with solitude.

I haven't even the energy to pull the words up from my stomach.
I heave,
Retching out nothing but bile and air.

I have so many things to say,
Passing fruitlessly through the space between my ears.

Speaking of space, that seams to be where I exist.
It's either that, or this is Purgatory.

Hell.
Too much conscience to be clinically depressed,
Too far gone to be "normal",
Nothingness.

"This is what it feels like to be a ghost."
To no one, again.

‘Tell me, O muse, why is it you’re ******?
Could it be that it’s me?
My thanks are they remiss?’

Yes it’s you, you selfish fool, you have made my list.
You thank another, yes, your lover,
when your poetry I’ve kissed.

I am inspiration, not he, she, or it.
You did not have a clue, give credit where it’s due,
you lying *******.

I will warn you only now, you no longer have my aid.
Complete me, entreat me,
and your parts they will be flayed.

Invoke me once again and forever be disfigured
That’s your lesson, any questions?
Yeah…
That’s what I figured.

Optional is not an option anymore.
I will roam
and I will writhe.
I will rally, rebuild.
I will pave a road,
I'll launch a ship.
I'll race a train, I'll run like hell.
I'll **** the marrow from my spine.
I'll hold my head above the moon.
I'll dive in the deep, I'll chase a bullet.
I'll wander out,
I'll slide away.
I'll lead an army and bomb the past.
Declare unrest and start new rule.
Crown a new king,
I'll carve a new stone.
I'll turn a new leaf and I'll sing a new song.
I'll make a new wish
And I'll burn a new bush.
I'll write a new page
And jump in with both feet.
I'll love a new lover
And befriend whom you hate.
I'll start a campaign.
I'll torch down our home.
Then move heaven and earth one inch to the left.
I'll shake. I'll regroup.
I'll push and I'll ****.
Reincarnate
Regurgitate.
I'll weave... I will tide.
I'll bend, and I'll bob, and I'll steal,
*I WILL TAKE! *
Because optional's not an option...
Anymore.

Sahn   6/8/14

Have you ever witnessed the death of a star?

Its eruption of shame filled with thunderous truth.
It shall never relive as a beautiful light in the distance.
But be of rays cracking through passing clouds.
Raging flames from the fuel of depression, now
energy bursts into extinction.
With an audience of ill-tempered eyes,
gawking at the past’s late arrival
..anxious for a new into the future.
The future of an untouched underworld,
the magical afterlife of a worshiped gem.
A gem that once meant everything
to a self-destructive star.

When did the measure of your worth become a brand?
Banded sneakers, streaking vibrance,
vibrating mobile nuzzled in hand.

These do not make you.

Backward cap, for a new era,
sagged pants, swagger stance
for this hoodlum hoody wearer.

These do not make him.

Gucci bags and other tags,
designer purse, cursing contraband,
fake names make her gag.

But these do not make her.

They say don't judge a book by it's cover,
so why a person by their assets?
if it were asserted by another...

Belongings do not a person make.

Kindness, courage, compassion, heart,
personality, wisdom,
even a love of art.

These a person make.

Take some time to introspect,
inspect the way you see yourself,
You'll be happier for it I expect.

You make the person.

I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.

How outrageous it was
that the world refused to stop
Even for a moment
To give a person
one more reason
For their world to turn