I grow tired of my words
They fall from chapped and bleeding lips
My tongue feels stuck like cotton balls
and my heart is worst of all.
Will you meet me in this place?
The way grows rougher with each step
I do not see the way before
save the next step only now.
Carry me when I can’t walk
and lay me down when I’m to die
and tell my heart to wait in faith
as all else begins to rot.
Hardness is everywhere
No matter what you choose
Easy is an illusion.
Much of meaning can be lost
In the words you choose to write
And as you struggle every hour
Sometimes you make it worse.
Love is like a whispered dream
That devils try to emulate
They give to you a poisoned glass
And show you in a broken mirror
Visions of a tainted dream
That start as pure as falling flakes
And by the time you see the trick
Your very mind has lost its place
and poison from the welcome glass
is in your belly working fast
and not so welcome now.
Hardness is an interesting trait
And life will give you all your fill
And when your cup flows over still
Perhaps you will no longer wait.
I will not miss you or your fucking soup.
One day when all is gone and all has returned
I will find a way
and it will be shown to me
and the ducks will be warm in the winter.
There are a lot of things in oneself to hate,
it is hard to know where to begin.
There are a lot of memories to desire gone
soups and lies and things we don’t speak of.
I await the judgement
and something else.
It is a long hard road to sobriety
even though I hardly ever drink
I am awash in a drunken stupor
of other sins with other victims…
Head down.
Don’t make a target.
Keep moving.
But they’re all dead, aren’t they?
Well,
all except me.
I always wonder why the worst gets left behind
It never makes sense
unless life is a punishment
mostly to the living.
It is a long and steep path
and better men have already died upon it.
Peace goes with truth and love–
it is never a product of self-esteem
The dogs lay down to sleep in the cold
and I feel as on fire in the night.
Keep moving.
First some realizations
Now soon comes the pain
The twitching of resistance
and all that I would kill.
The mornings are best if left unstained
and work begun at the first
Start out right and pain is less
so we learn eventually.
The knee is bent quite easily
The heart is not the same
If hearts had knees they would be steel
Strait pillars to defy.
A Soul's Walk 