Broke(n)

Away, I shift away and outwards
Away from my crutch
I untie all tethers, lunging upwards
Looking clearly into this unfocused focal
Damaging forever,
The will to travel back.

This is not one night off,
This is the now and never
The irrevocable divergence of 'enough'
Landing nowhere but here
In a column of trust that I built
Forever ago-
When the world was yet young.

A stumbled path of misshapen steps
Leading forward, towards my earned history
Debacle's and the deliquescing of humid concerns
I melt along with those well worn shoes
Heels of which are grated bare-
Raw enough,
...to my liking.

Bitten in a memory,
Twine tied vociferously, layers of memory protrude
This is a gastric bypass of yesteryear's ingestion
Looking to blow without neglected periphery's being effected.
I loathe the acknowledgements
Cathartic though they be,
Progression in aggression is blatantly effective.

The boxing gloves are a part of me now
I've been wearing them since birth.
In the clearing I wish to see a new fighter
Carrying only one reminder;
These scars were earned and loved
For had there been an absence of action-
I'd of earned nothing but complacency,
A fate too poor for even the pauper.

...lining.

Slipped in through a weakened spot in the lining
The slow queue of all that gathers, grows timid in its impatience.

Trek-in, Trek-out.

Simplicity is a fuckin' field mine
Who says perception is deluded?
Mind frame has long been spoilt
That ragin' brat of indecision wails on
Burrowing into the night
Slobber-driven and weak.
Obliterate, penetrate, ameliorate
I must short-circuit the thousand ears I have grown
Apply deafness to the squeaky wheels of ignorance
They seek to delay and derail even the minuscule
My crippled progress means nothing now,
Too hog-tied in my own coagulated waste.

..and I crave normal...
Though the definition of which lies dormant to my sense
A knowledge I'd die painfully to gain
Restricted still by my own indifference.
I am... nonsense.
I am a stagnating fuck-up of consequences
Drivelling in the perfection of all that I fucked-off.

Until the mood swings-
Where I am yet again, no longer the victim to be tied,
But the benevolent purveyor of secrets
That long to be whispered and learned...

Courage.

Faith-

I'm on my way.

...that I'm not.

I am vinegar and water.
Distilled.
An exotic windowpane with domestic reflection.
They raised me this way, to think without color
The color of my own skin.
Brilliant.
Forced prejudice meant nothing
I learned all I needed
In everything they didn't say.
The hue of the morning is light
My primary utterance- laughter
A gift comes along without warning
The reception of which, guarantee's value.
I smile in my new born day
Thankful for all I don't see
And yes, even for what I have not yet felt-
Touched, or taken.
Where there is mystery, there is love
Those secrets yet revealed hold a 'yes'
To every misunderstood notion that I am
Someone that I'm not.
Confusion thrusts those particles up
From the floor, my countenance hastens
Anchored in by my responsibilities
That ripcord of safety- secure.
For the 'second guessing' comes in handy,
You see.

I am a dual-action pistol,
Firing twice to get the job done
Failing now would blister my landing, and if
I am to fall, I will fall softly
Onto a plateau of care built through trust.
Trust that while walking through this life
I chose wisely when it came to the banter of my brain
That within these virtual hugs
There grows respect and reverence
For all we have yet to discover.

This is no Dress Rehearsal.

Nervous thoughts, nervous fingers
There is caffeine in my mind.
I am weary from self-consolation
Apparently, it's working less
Soon, inadequacies will swallow me whole.
Swallow me hole. Hole. Holed.
Beaten.
Who is hearing this soliloquy
This pantomime of failure is a joke
I wear no make-up while performing,
But clearly the costume is transparent
I am the only theme that moans.
Thematic despondency-disgusting.

Unspoiled.

Imbued, candlelit text
Sharpening fervor, the darker the night
I comb away the tangle of the day
Smooth potential now revealed.
My pen is weightless, fueled by a flow
That ages each day as I do.
Within the sonnet there is a song and
Two words carry the meaning of many
Multitudinous insinuation as the eyes roam East.

Unblemished scroll unfolding neath malleable script
Naked eyelashes flutter as vision is revered;
That lense holds understanding that need not speak
And wouldn't, if not the ear demand its own due.
There is perfection in uncorrected dictation
I want to ease into the meaning of thoughts that
Must be read and ingested by virtue of true arrival
Authenticity has one opportunity to present itself

I will be docent to this time; truthful in context
Meaning will metamorphosize with mood,
May it remain protected by the unwavering ideal
That, 'To edit is to spoil'...

Craving.

Undertone is more a whisper than a scent
Warm into the quiet night, ears...cuddling
Sound vibrating softly, delivery need no immunity
Here in the cushion of Privacy, this world bears no threat.
Impugnity from all noise, this quiet is my craving
My solitude giving birth to new light.