hmm

I'm sorry I write poems.
They're all I know.
They're all you don't.
They know me.

Our heartbeats are pivots in to existence
But aside from that I'm different.
I hear Jim Morrison and crickets
I fear torches and pickets
I wear a mask so cracked
I need lies to fix it.

Life is self inflicting
I'm sorry I write poems

Eternal

The blood never dries.
Hope burn eternal.
Watch the bullets fly
burying the vernal.
War inside the head manifests on the field
Rich getting fatter behind their human shields.

One's freedom is the other's grave.
I'd rather see us all as ALL minus the knave.
I was sanguine in youth, I was brave.
The world bore a cynic who's been led astray.

The blood never dries. The wounds never heal.
Justice is not color blind beneath the broken wheel.
The broken heart, the coffin's sealed.
Humanity's not lost. It was never really there.
The blood doesn't dry. Time won't repair.

A Cursed Expedition.

The trail of disappointment is long. A cursed expedition.
Reversing course, my soul is coarse.
Locked inside a cage, collecting dirt under the back porch.
Wild as the wind, not born to be tamed. I want to be the mandolin that Nina craved.
I don't know if I'm out of time or just too comfortable.
What have I got to lose? What if I'm held accountable?
What if I'm too safe?
Why am i so confined when my echos can't find an end in outer space?
I don't like people because they're not human.
My field is barren. No fucks blooming.
I hear an out of key piano and the Earth's core is fuming.
If i could spread my wings and fly I'd just sit and watch it die.
I traverse cursed expeditions through hurricane's eyes.
My course lost its value in the wind's deepening sigh.

It follows

It follows me. The dim light. I'm afraid,
Don't show me what I'm afraid to see.
Don't shine the love on me.
Hidden by the rain's urgency
pounding on the soul fervently.
I've gotta abandon my words to be free.
Because I'm bound to the nouns that abandoned me.
My feelings are the claws that grip my throat.
Breaths creaking on the rusty hinge, I am her ghost.

I don't fear death,
I fear the waiting room where all us skeletons are kept.
Life is ether, death the hum fading in the speakers.
I've come to far to be a truth seeker,
I know the truth in the reflection of my shadow as the lights flicker.
I know the pain as the lump in my throat gets bigger.
It follows me.

Descending Are The Crows.

Descending are the crows. Mercy a word they do not know.
Rotting flesh, atrophied bone. But the heart still beats in its decayed home.
You make me alive. But death is my gift. The curse is my ghost with a lump in his throat
Sift through my memories, find me hovering where i was broken. Discovering the wounds are still open.
A flesh wound, not a fresh wound. You departed too soon to the shores where the future's strewn.
I can't have you, but you have me. It's a matter of entropy and gravity.
Descending are the crows. Ascending is the spirit through the dreams of the unknown.
I didn't wanna wake up. Not because i wanted to die. I just wanted there to be a forever
with just you and I .
The crows, they descended  to the wire by the window. Singing that all good must come to end though. The frost on the ground. The chill permeates life. So i followed that echoes back to the safety of night.

Turnstiles go: click click

To rebuild from being broken.
So many times through the turnstile without a token.
Desensitized; a great armor.
But i can't tell when the fire burns, and i miss the karma.
Fear of death and fear of dying are two not the same,
 but i can't feel because death already came.
How can i seize the day when I am the night?
That spark i long for has dissipated in the light.
I wanna chase her, but I'm over the Bern.
So close to that feeling as the hourglass seeps into the urn.
Rebuilt in defense.
Confined behind the walls of my own ambivalence.
I felt a light in the crack. I felt weakness so i walked back.
I survived the sword and i wanted more.
But i had nothing left, except her soul to explore.
The stars i see now are a million year's passed.
Gone before i noticed, but i noticed..
I knew the tree fell, not cuz i was there, but because she told us.

8 lines.

One window open. One window closed.
Is it hot or cold? There's sunshine in the snow.
Tears of joy, smile through pain.
Fall from the vine then grow again.
Love to be hated, hate to be loved.
No soothing sounds, life's poorly dubbed.
No happy medium, no perfect drug,
Taste the bristles, the rope is too snug.