I would rather be known
as that girl who asks
if you want to hear a poem
than that drunk girl at the club

I'm finding that not everyone
will listen, let alone undertsand
when I expose myself to them

pulling back each rib
one at a time
depending on which
poem I choose

I'll lose blood for nothing
they don't even see the
crimson puddle on the floor

but it's there and sometimes
the people I chose to let it
out for aren't even

listening to the poem
some decline the offer
entirely

I'm going to promise myself
right now
there will never be a time
when I would say no

to a glimpse of someone
else's heart

I already feel too far
away from
humanity

often trapped
in what can seem
an artless world

and so I will never
say no

or look away if you
show me yours

I'll show you mine
and pretty soon

our chests are both
exposed

two tortured hearts
the metranome to
our so-called lives.

You ask me if having a baby in this world is selfish.

I imagine two stout bodied genderless dwarves.
with beards.
hand pumping a minecart down
subway tracks in Boston.

Hear the rattling
cart wheels along iron tracks.
the crackling fire of a lit torch
Illuminating an obvious macguffin
a glimmering maguyvery boulder
in the side of the tunnel.

This vision is a testament to how well I pay attention
When I have tunnel vision.

One pulled lever slows the minecart to a screaching stop
the dwarves zelda bomb their way inside

There is a man behind it
the size of a mountain
hooked up to a bypap machine
umbilical corded to a television

he does not know whether he is nocturnal,
trusts his wristwatch to tell time
Which was over $5,000 dollars.
trusts this watch
about as far
as he can throw his money away.
So He collects watches.

I ask you.
Does this man sound alive?

Do you think he more closely
resembles a metaphor
For children zombied into media leashes.
another pet to pitch in the graveyard
of working class
blades of grass leaning on the T
nodding off to sleep?

Or is he more like us.
escapists
wandering eyes
With roots in our mattresses
Shackled in the entertainment
Always breathing
inflating never creating.
or breathing out.

Would a child help us out?
would that be selfish?

breath can we still
tubes of oxygen up our noses.
can we rip out the catheder
save with will power
would a child somehow spin
eugenic honey
royal bee propaganda jelly
Would we see the world without sepia
no more screen filters
less headaches
less screen time
advil addiction.
Two less pills taken
comitted to attention.
stuck in tunnel vision
smoke and mirrors
are so shiny after blue pills

This mountain of a man
said to ask the man on the mountain
and I was so deep in my grave
I decided to dig down thinking
If This is hell I must be at the earths
molten core, so the road up
is just as long as the road
in any direction so long as i went straight.
But I change directions all the time.
And I still haven't hit the surface
And I keep building boulders
to keep out the cave rats
and making them obvious,
glimmerig macguffins so adventurers
will zelda bomb them open
and find me sitting here
watching the world go by
losing track of time
But always checking the clock on my wrist.
Because it's so beautiful
and biological.
The ticking is so loud
I'm deafened to the humming
of my oxygen machine.
the television,
screaching minecart breaks
My front door being blown open.
By zelda bombs

I'm stagnant with nothing but
my dreams and a metranome
Counting down to the day
I hate this television enough
To turn it off

Trust this clock enough to turn it back.

For a breif moment hear the
screaching subway tracks
The whirring of my bipap,
The bombs going off
not just at my front door
but all over the world.
blowing open my eyes to see finally

that life isn't worth a bomb shelter.
If I can't be selfish,

**** repopulting the earth.
I am going to paint drooping clocks
eat non-parishables ironically
and Die an honest man.

how do I still love you when everything screams to let you go
how do i still care when your icy  goodbye left me cold as snow
How do i still need you when you left me swinging
from high to low
How do i still feel you, when your silloute is but a ghost
no longer want to be here ,without you not a home
loneliness the darkness silence
dictates the melody of your metranome

tears falling to the sound of raindrops, emotions twisted cycloned
shards of glass all around, broken soul by happiness disowned

heart screaming, the devil  he knows
you left me, a candle, wickless to the bone,
shine blown out by your lies, tears me to tears, rivers I cry, heart turned to stone

leaving me lifeless, ready to fight less
lay down and just drown.
leaving me broken severed deboned
increasingly seemingly love was disowned
miss your soothing tone, all i can do is scream at my phone

loneliness wont leave me alone, feels i should atone
measured  never known lost my pleasant tone
every thought my displeasure shown
every last  pleasure stolen,  hope overdosed
it's lifeless forever on this dangling rope
never so i cant cope
tangled up in a strangeling grip
lifes book angrily wrote

truthful note to heaven it wish to float.
sad notes emotions tearing a dog fight
truth your enemy it took flight
bad nights  functions disabled,
lies keeping me awake at night
tribulations my daily plight
no modern knight
felt tall with you, disheveled I lost all height
faulting  with ease, the stranger in the mirror staring back at me, he lost his fight, dont think he'll ever be all right.


this the end for me, love and i will never be
friends again from it  i flee
all i can do  get lost in reverie
reliving hapiness in memories under pretense
treachery
whatever be honestly I dont have the energy, i feel i will never heal not in this century

you can listen to the actual song

bandlab.com/writtenalph