pain from within is like a shot of lightning to the chest
that no one sees
but everyone hears

how were we to know that just because we see light
doesn't mean that
better times are coming

light stands for good but connotates putting the bad
out of our heads when
it just gives us a better view

blood isn't effective
because someday you'll run out.
we know this.

soak up sun instead
drench yourself in salt water
kick up dirt under your heels
let blades of grass slice open your back

then slice open your mind
it you let your pain come from elsewhere,
you'll have time to produce your own happiness

good can always come from bad
call me a hypocrite, but drowning causes life
and thinking causes death
let the water fill your head and void your
recesses of any toxicity that resides there

better to drown in the new than
to stay stuck in the old
and while rain waters can convert to
toxic waste, sometimes a weekly purge
is more than necessary

for shaking hands, i find a prudent remedy
is a rainy day
doctors recommend laying on the pavement
with your back pressed to the ground and
eyes closed, mouth open,
drinking in all the purity the sky
offers you

it is only then, in drowning,
that you will remember how to feel
alive

sometimes i find it's easier to stop trying to find
that specific blueprint in the back
of a drawer

and create a completely new one based on the
pieces i'm working on and think
outside the box

what are issues if not explosions?
i know most, myself included, prefer a slow burn, a quiet scorch,
but explosions are inevitable.
it's figuring out what to do with them and how to navigate them
that is the fun part
you can build so many things
from that amount of pieces

fire doesn't always burn out.
once it's there, it is always there.
it may not still be roaring, but embers have a way of incinerating you, just at a slower pace.
that's why i always keep a canister of gasoline handy-
you never know when you need to douse yourself to feel alive.

it doesn't hurt to lose skin against skin sensations?
maybe i'm extraordinary, but
aching hurts
and i ache constantly

that temptation for me didn't come in the form of drugs or alcohol but the intoxication of others
i admit i found solace in their lips and their hips and everything inbetween
but is it wrong to want lust when love has ****** you?

sometimes i leave my icebox open on accident and
it makes my house absolutely freezing
how come we have to pay
to turn down the heat

but the rust still remains.
between your fingers, in your hair, cracking across your lips and the birds you admire from your broken window.
did you ever stop to think that it made you appreciate being clean?
it's not as beautiful as silver, not as strong as titanium, not as effervescent as chrome.
it covers you head to toe and still you insist that you've moved on.
i see your true colors, and right now they're all varying shades of red.
what happened to you, what did you lose?
and what did you think i turned to?
drugs and ******* money, i can hear the birds sing
maybe it's deliberate if it's lacking substance
somehow that's not where i ended up but the birds are still tarnished and that honestly just makes me thankful for the temptations that gave me more than the color red
did you scrub yourself raw trying to burn the memories away?
can you still hear the birds?