Crawling on My Belly (Strong Language)

What are you looking at?
A man crawling on his belly?
Yes I am on my belly in the mud.
Yes I have fucked up most my life.
But above is hung a broken crown.
And I will not wear it,
No matter how sweet the siren sound.
No! damn you!
I don’t need reassurances of grace.
Don’t shine the light in my face.
I can’t see if you blind me.
And my fate hangs in the balance.
I’ll keep fucking up,
Keep crawling in the mud,
But I will not wear a twisted crown-
Some day I’ll find solid ground.

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Collective Musings

I woke up insane, like

Spring was coursing in my veins and

Growing green things in my head to

Push out the musty, dusty, crusty

Thoughts of wintertime sadness

 

The wind is like a drug.

I sucked it into shriveled lungs

Felt it start whirling in my brain

Twirling things that had not been stirred

Since I had had tucked them away

Last summer in the heat and the heartbreak

 

My muscles hurt, right between my shoulder blades

From wielding a shovel like a war-spear

Against my enemy the gravel pile

It felt like wings trying to push through my skin

And with the empty blue bowl of sky calling

Calling, calling, calling me

Crying for me

I wished it were wings growing

No Mercy (In A Razor Blade)

I danced with Death that night.

I wasn’t gonna go, understand-

Just invited it in to be my plaything.

But I guess death played with me.

 

The razor was cold in my fingers.

It grew hot in my grasp.

But that was from the heat of my heart.

And the mad fever in my brain.

 

With slow strokes I laid my skin open.

For a moment, my art traded ink with blood.

The metal pen wrote a story in my arms.

I looked inside myself, and I was sick.

 

I carry scars now, livid gashes in my skin.

Contrasting with the muted pale and tan.

But I am better now, believe me.

I see the truth of things at last.

There is no freedom in that kind of pain.

No release in the pooling blood.

I can’t punish myself for the things I’ve done,

A sinner can’t be his own judge and jury.

There is no mercy on the razor blade.

It’s What I’ve Needed

I’ve been needing this for so long-

To be washed in the river, the water running over me.

But the realization that I’ll have to jump

Has glued my feet with fear to the shore.

The river will never change its course to flow to me.

I have to run for love to it’s banks-

Find my courage and hold my breath.

With eyes wide open I’ll take the leap.

I Am Become Death

I am become death

Winter’s chill sucked

The breath from my lungs

And filled my gasping lungs

With burning cold

 

I bring worlds to the edge of oblivion

But the rings of fire hold them back

 

I walk with the quick

A dead one

They don’t catch on

Don’t want to see

The skull behind

My moving lips

And blinking eyes

 

You shall know my name!

How can you forget

The one you murdered so long ago?

I am risen again

No soul in my chest

No voice in my brain

Only the void of death

Where a heart should be

Cloaked in majesty

Armed in fear

I am the bogy in the closet

The monster under the bed

I am the faceless thing in the dark

The one that sits

At the foot of your bed

When your time has come

My Blood is My Ink

Blood is the ink that roars in my veins.

The wonder of a blank page

Shivers my soul with expectancy.

Oh! silence take me!

All these words that I speak-

Syllables of dust,

Utterances of rust-

Do not put words on the whiteness

Of the life I should be living.

So silence take me.

My pen must be the deeds I do,

In quiet moments when I’m the only witness.

My ink must be my sweat and tears

And the blood that I bleed

As I empty my flesh of me.

An offering to the Almighty.