I Really Can't Explain How Lost This Really Is

It's that yellow glow again. Same old songs ring through. Pain whirling through the room. Not one person feels settled. I treck the lonely soldier's track. Keeping wanderers off and never able to keep the worthy around. The same old stamped dirty. I'm respected but never rewarded. Admired but never fulfilled. My eyes are hard and heavy. I fall and rise in a seconds time and this mountain view just doesn't do it for me. Not anymore. It's like running in circles. Doing everything right. And nothing. I'm a fool for hoping and as empty as the half hearted whispers I send to gods I barely know. Even my poetry is lost. Like there's no step up. I don't see it going anywhere. Tabled off. This flattened path. Self righteous. Self destructive. Cursed. If I could step off the edge I would. I'd leap.

all this loss...and I haven't missed you this much in months

Atheistic Hymnal

something about a sour serenade somewhere. she ruffles through her bag and runs her fingers through her hair. gleemin in the glare caught in a momentary stare. oh lord they'd make a nice pair. worn out from the work of his mind he's constantly curious who stole all his time. "the whole world is blind and the sins i'm committing merely keep me from gettin mine." a circular second passed he wonders is she'll last or if he's doomed to rerun episodes of his own past. lettin new ones in is like a nightmare. scratchin and breathin. wakin from a sleep he can't repair. sins of his father and the failing of his mother. dear lord don't let this fate plague his little brother. an escape. a door to roll through. where he sees nothing but the full truth. somethin that'll finally feel the sink of his chipped tooth. light years away she might be thinkin of him on this very same day. head in his palms. still breathin calm. overwhelmed wishin he could find a shred of peace written in the psalms. shruggin through social pressures. every action on measure. breakin and bustin and blowin through tubes like that air compressor. if i had a match you know i'd contest her. but it's broke it's done. the thoughts in his mind slipped away locked up for another time. but i want it known how damn hard i try and how damn hard i wish for a better day. enough to make an atheist pray. the courage to shed shake down all my beliefs today.

Catharctica

blood born circuit boards. a broken set of shingles and a Sunday's blasphemous screech. all a recipe for poor americana stew boiled to elogant steams. whipped and whispereed, prated and barred. resserected and cut down. mowed and mutilated. like a symphony blazing three inches away. chained down. boarded up. green gushed and running. so fast and far away. no prints all pain but nothin sugar will be the same

tomorrow

my heart exploded into a burst of orange browned breeze blown leaves. I couldn't even look.