This storybook romance, as a kid who knew little.
A godless world of men/children and seekers of caves to hide,
cavemen, with little room for women inside
purchased on credit, a debt owed for no repentance
Prostitutes or strippers,
no discerning between the two,
sorry lives that hold only resentment.
Cash sale, and how did it fail,
who takes the blame for this execution?
If you only could stay, pardon the world for screwing you this way.
The mirror image, now growing old, way too tired to play along
your mind wanting to forget today
You can’t remember when you came alive
Only to be pronounced dead after such a short time.
Pictures torn from your past, the recluse, the lost years
singe hair and skin, old age spots… the sun no longer your friend
I can’t escape you, but I’ll give it my best shot.
Some things worth having and others not.
We hold on for dear life,
The saddest day, when its no longer right
A pile of regrets too high to climb,
shortened views and lost sight.
Shortsighted and backwards passage,
Clearing a channel I was stuck in for days.
White noise and the rhetoric of a sage
Heard through telegraphs and daydreams
No accounting for old age,
The indifference of sleepless nights,
I got used to long nights drawn out and psychotic rage.
Anger is a gift when used sparingly
I could use it repeatedly, the giving tree
And that sentiment fell on deaf ears
Bottled up and messages closed off
I sent an SOS to someone who wasn’t worth the loss
Of mindfulness and bullshit, the stinging rain
Down pouring sideways
Like my mind, I hold in contempt
But these feelings belong to me
And they’re all I have left
Places people and things
Don’t mean anything
if you allow it all back in
whenever it can
Talking with no walking,
Words and lip service and derailed again
My mind a sieve, walked on by myself, makes no sense
Somehow I thought I had this licked
Still the pariah, with the wounds and pricks
The past careening into my neck
At break neck speed snapped me back into my seat
Flung me out in the street
Roadkill and rubber neck
Trampled under foot from all those who wished me dead
It was a bitter pill to choke down
I wish there was more of a warning this time
I relied on you and I don’t know why?
All this love to give, my expectation that you would just bandage me up.
Band aids on a twelve inch cut,
Bled out, strip search
And I’d say something like “this will be the last time”,
but I’ve learned enough
call my own bullshit and let the past creep
to take over