Monday, December 3, 2012


I am concubine to the proper
No longer even entertaining the idea
Of expenditure into games that serve to destruct
And it is evangelical to perch and preach within
Growing sickly by the hour in my refuge towards- Virtue.
I don't have even the will to transcribe
All the eloquence of treasured energy
For it seems in days of old, such action proved little
By way of honoring the heart and not the hole.
I am aware now of so many faults
Why now do I wish to abandon my kindness?
I loved so much in weakened states,
Thinking that to tear down rough exteriors
I would earn their reverent favor...
But there was none to be found.
It did not exist, in laying waste to preservation
I gave away my own fortitude
In the now I flail like a pathetic waif
Begging back the strong arm that once suited me:
Muscles that once swore to protect
All that the child in me held dear.
When I was that young,
I learned too early about the slow ache of resistance
Ever wishing under constant duress,
For self-esteem to conquer sensitivity.
This Winter coat is thickening
Reinforcing bitter chill
Bowing back into the sinews,
That leak from darkened corners.
No sense in shying away from dark matter
For t'is irreverent abuse that's sure to follow
Ignorance has nevermore meant bliss
To swill from  that lurid barrel is the folly of the lost.
I am lost no longer in the contemplation of December
Fully aware and tilted forward, into my devastation
I am head-on into the traffic
Fucking off the tepid warnings that have remained quiet
Destined never to solve equations that stood by
Oblivious to the worry, the intention, the imbalance.
I've weakened in absorbing this repetitious, sucker-punched inertia
Might as well pull that last Ace
Put it to good use-
Tomorrow comes quickly
And I am now the wiser.

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