the last page

Your world has become a canvas
you've painted black
your friends say
they don't know you anymore
I bet you wonder
if they ever did
You bleed in accusations and questions
This war you've engaged in,
this war with yourself
has left you bankrupt and empty
When will you drop the charges?
when will you walk away?
Your tenacity is unsettling,
your punishments are retroactive
Shadows wince in the silence
of your internal war
You must wonder
what's keeping you alive
maybe it's the same thing
keeping you up at night
There is a way out
but it involves "drastic actions"
It is a blackness that envelopes
like a womb, like a blanket
and it takes all your care away
It is the end
it's in your hand
and it is the only solution
you have left.

name, rank and serial number

The girls taste like
so many things
they taste like rare birds,
birds without wings
devils and angels and rust
Some remember words
you're pretty sure
you've never said
They all penetrate
and bore into your head
peek around corners
stalk you in your sleep
In your mind
you are a simple man
content with little--
sunsets and sweet rain
They caress your exterior
and breathe in a musky mix
of raw and refined
It seems like they exist
to cross off your thoughts
and replace them with their own
It seems so innocent
but it is a war
that you are losing
They have breached your perimeter
snaked past the sleeping snipers in the trees
and are busy
draining your mind
and wasting your time.

your old friends

Your old friends
don't come around much anymore
There isn't a lot to do here
mostly just idle talk
and old war stories
Those old feelings
have become a lesson
the faces and the names have changed
but those girls remain the same
Taunting, just out of reach
they know you won't take chase
You are a caged animal
hair raised on your spine
mouth a frothy mess
and eyes that never rest
Your filthy paws
will never feel free ground
your filthy mind
will never stop trying
Your old friends
never told you
there was never anything there
no one lives
no one dies there
It is a cheap stage
for even cheaper magic tricks
Once they're done
they move on to the next town.

fast cars driving nowhere

They are tangles and tentacles
hair and flesh and hot breath
limbs that innocently rub against
lips that shape words and wounds
and deadly warfare
They are the now
and you are an old curiosity
a relic that has survived
to tell the oddest tales
They are invasive
like weeds
they thrive on abuse
Their glances bore into you
and become something caustic
Their names don't matter
their faces always change
Without even trying
they soak you to the bone
in sticky pheromones
bubble gum, endless Friday nights
music no one cares about
and fast cars driving nowhere
they will rule the world
but for now
they just want to play
cat and mouse with you.

if there is hope

The lights have gone out
in your brain again
The night is a menace
and it breeds pestilence,
breathes it into you
So many hands grope you
so many voices render you speechless
so much blame to go around
but it's just you here
Like a puppet
you play along
hoping they'll get tired
of such easy thrills
but they never do
The answering machine is blinking
you know, though,
the line's gone dead
Money can't fix you
time doesn't heal this
running got old so long ago, so
you wait and hope
that you will simply dissolve
and cease to exist
No drug can keep you up
and people just drag you down
Those pretty people
and those nice families
just remind you of your hopeless state
If there is hope at all
then it exists in black and white
if there is a cure
then it is subtle,
an inoculation you never feel
Is it in me now?
I bite my lip
and imagine it there.

machines break

I am driven beyond
the limits of my body
so many times I have broken down
and wondered why
I say when it is enough
I say what gets done and when--
not this brittle casing,
this angry old soldier
I am a belligerent and humorless
taskmaster
When will I learn
machines break and we fix them
but what have I done
to fix myself
What sort of repairs,
what maintenance have I scheduled
My own body has become a reminder
of the war I have waged
there are gunners in my eyes
subterfuge on my lips
hellfire in my heart
and lingering shrapnel in my flesh
This war is a consumption
and when it stops
so will I.

surviving midnight

When their eyes have left you alone
you know all too well
that's when the real torture begins
Alone, you are vulnerable
alone, you reek of fear
you can sense them
sniffing right outside your door
waiting for your eyes to close
listening to your trembling heart
They are always there
but this is their witching hour
Bloodthirsty bastards
they never get enough
they withdraw from every account
You have four walls to consider
and no way out
They poke, they prod,
they make you squeal
Your best defense is to scream
but no one would hear you
They know what power is
You haven't figured it out
you just know that
right now is a bad time to be you.

we are those people

I remember so well
your tobacco lips
your careless clothes
the hair that was everywhere
and the lies I told myself
when I knew I was wrong
I remember the cold nights we shared
walking nowhere, talking
pretending we knew it all
I like to think
that we are those people still
but the years have changed us somehow
Sitting on the floor
playing video games
doesn't seem the same
Simple things don't mean as much
and I don't have the energy
to defend myself anymore
All I want
is to sit on my stoop
and whittle away at one problem
When I'm done
I'll do it again
at some point
I will find the end
at some point
I will have rest
and at some point
we'll remember who we are.

spin in tiny circles

I am a consternation
and a bloody battleground
You don't seem to see
I don't want to live this way
I don't want to end up
broken at the bottom of a hill
All is see is payback,
bitter retribution
for knowingly abandoning you
My claustrophobia got the better of me
my impatience and boredom
compelled me the other way
If tears could cleanse
I would have nothing to fear
but we all know,
don't we
fear has gotten the better of me
What are the words
read me my lines
What is the point
you'll just close your eyes
I am pitiful
in my sackcloth and ashes
torn, as if by wolves
I have gone nowhere
I spin in tiny circles
as my life leaches into the ground
Will someone plead my cause
will someone answer on the other end
Will I get to see
your smiling eyes again?