Wasted Winter Breath

Eight years later and your deception still glows the same in the night.

Who do you think I am?

How deep does your ignorance run?

Blacklisted from the remainder of my existence.

Good luck climbing out of that quicksand.

All those songs you quote reveal just how lost you are.

The storms never stop, they just pause for a moment so that the clouds can gather more tears.

Heart

 I can count five times throughout my development that a swift punch in the mouth to my oppressors would have ended the torment forced upon me. Taking the path my single mother laid crumbs to follow, I have found that by withholding my clenched white knuckles, my mind rests at ease with the need for redemption from physical acts. The one area that has plagued my splintered consciousness (ironically) rests within the once fractured hearts of women.

 During moments that strike at me out of a blue sky, I am filled with remorse for the abandonment my words have caused, and for the separation of many once singular twin heartbeats. Over the years many contacts have been made acknowledging my wrongdoing, and I was met with a fucked up form of understanding. I never thought of myself as a heartbreaker, but it's weird the ways we can surprise ourselves.

 I will always remember the small forms of kindness that others have shed for me. I'm to old to hold a grudge, and am glad that I have never spilled another's blood. I'm still alive, I just hope that karma is finally done with me.

Safety

The sticking point fosters weight so monumental that these clockwork motions are of no use.

Though the effort has more than doubled, the contact refuses to shift even an inch...

Tension

When inspiration is lacking and I cannot find it in the daily motions of life, I page through my failures, and am humbled when I see where the cravings have crumbled.

5 1 17

Born into it recycled through my innocent actions.

Held over me like an umbrella,

with no rain or sun to provide shelter from.

It weighs me down, like memories from a past life.

The room is dark but for a red light.

The chemical mixture reveals images frozen in time.

More than halfway there, but that says little when I'm 30 years into a 50 year journey.

All these sad songs and fading graphite keep me trapped in a loop.

Trudging through all those drunken memories, I can't help but question how much of it was real.

The images passed over screen and the warmth shared like silverware in a drawer.

My experiences were always playing catch-up to those around me.

I used my skills to construct a makeshift raft, and now spend discarded hours searching for my lost companion. 

Frozen Sun

The frozen sun takes my sight in exchange for that rare comfortable silence.

Days turn to years as my life falls month after month from the calendar.

Am I waiting for the wait, or for a return?

Do I desire redemption for those broken moments?

I sit and ponder as tomorrow tumbles past me.

No longer breathing in the seconds, another me takes over.

I always took what I could get,

Until another did the same.