Rake & Rend

colorsvintIf you do what you’re told
You’ll end up growing old
while the masochistic masses
lay on laurels of half asses.
I’ve done as I’m told
waiting for my story to unfold
while my freak flag flies high
and I’m told all I have to do is try.
Failure is success as black is white
and I only ever tried to do what was right
which was wrong on the road paved
with the bodies of those unmade.
I stick up for myself only when I know
that the person on the other side isn’t foe
for fear of the vultures descend
their claws rake and rend.


The itch evolves into a scream.
The following silence strikes
to the rhythm of your fast beating heart.
The echoes reverberate through your dream,
hopes laying in neat little rows,
exhausted dreams dismembered.
I wake and choke on the residue
of the half emptied, half remembered
remains fading into the dawn.

One of One


The price of freedom
isn’t even loneliness.
Companionship can cause isolation,
and connection isn’t binary.
I admitted I don’t even like people
with reluctant attachment.
I know I’m better, and yet,
here I am again.
And I could be anyone
even if you are only you.
I step back and keep falling,
and he repeated,
“I told you about stairs,”
while trying to rewind time.
Quadrants are alien and confuse
and yet I chose to be one of four.
Adapting has only made things less clear.
Being truthful in inner conflict
is staring at several reflected, fractured shards.
I’m one of one, regardless of who I see.
I’m one of one, on my own and making it through.
I’m one of one, no matter who stares at me.
I’m one of one, with or without you.