losing definitioni traced in the linesthat define me my outlines inbright red dark red jagged smooth curvedthey keep my substance containedthough my rage ran in red allover the page it stayed within the confinesof my outlines and if itthreatened to escape i made the lines sharperthicker longer stronger to keep it insidefor what's inside is a monsterthe outlines a cage bars to keepit behind boundaries defined but if youtake away my pencilsi can't reinforce the linesand without the lines...just don't take away my pencils
Boreas Notus Eurus ZephyrusOnly the wind knowseverything as itblows in through myskin, a tornado beginsand it echoes aroundthe empty spaces inside,the vaulted expansesthat didn't collapseeven when love died andit pushes into cornersand roars through thespiderwebs and slamsdoors and reachesunfeelingly throughabsolutely all ofme and only the windknows everything asit blows.
oblationso i'll peel off my lips with theirmanufactured smileand remove my dry eyesthat have forgottenthe taste of tearsand i'll sweat off my face andits mascara andlipstick stainsand i'll catch the forced laughterup in butterfly netsand capture the invented hopesand pour them intoan old canning jarand i'll corral all my promisesand tie them upand i'll rip away the bandages with no heedfor the bleedingand all these i'll laydown with mybroken sunglassesand torn pants andlong-sleeved shirtsand gloves and hatsat the feet ofthe world andoffer them up insacrifice andforsake everythingi ever hid behindand it will bemy last breathand my first
purificationI was walking in the wind today and I closedmy eyes and breathed in my lungs filledwith wishes lost on their wayand dreams set free and I keptwalking though it crossed mymind to beg thewind for wings but I heldmy tongue as the gusts playedalong my parted lips
throwing stonesand nothing isreason enough tostop pushing stopfighting they dontcare how suicidalyou are you stillhave work to doand it must bedone they demandit be done becausenothing is reasonenough to stoppushing stopfighting andkeep breathing onemore breath inand out and inand out theydont care howhard it is foryou to breathe aslong as youre stilldoing everythingthat you aresupposed to bedoing keep right onbreathing and livelike youre notbegging to die
the last seasonwinter cameunbiddenflowing onits ownautumn tooksome thinkingbut allfell intoplacesummer wasthe simplestdespiteall therevisionsbut spring won'tcome and i'mstarting to seewhy i can'twrite springthere will beno spring