You might/should/would think I'm full throttle
just because I go to dives in my underwear,
reach across the counter and drink right from the bottle.
From time to time
I might talk to myself.
We have some really heated arguments;
I hate that guy. Such a bore.
He'd say, "Don't go and rob that store
At least go around back, use a gun
don't just paint a banana black."
We might be on the no fly list,
just because once I got ******
and ****** out the airlock.
One day I might get my mind right,
kick these habits,
go find out what happened
to my non-existent kid and wife.
Until then
Lucid is a luxury that I intend to disarm
sell to my dealer to get more
sugar for my arm.
Sometimes I just like listening to the voices in my head
and all their whacked out ravings
as I tie myself to the bed.
Crazy people are the ones
who are the same thing everyday.
The same as you, full of pride,
until I had an epiphany
while my brain did the electric slide.
I have the ability to destroy lives
by showing how much of a waste
yours belies.
And if the world thinks I'm touched,
I'll stroke their back
put everyone to sleep,
so I can undo reality.

I am frightened of
the endless possibilities
that brought you here to me.
So many decisions that
if they happened differently
I couldn't look you in the eyes
while you stare back so intently.
The goddess of numbers had graced us
with the smallest chance encounter
that brought us together.
And I analyze the luck
of the excessive number of variants
where the love is more than mutual,
while the others prove our connection futile.
Everyday I relish in the serendipity
at every continuity
where we continue to be.

Now I'm lost.
Host to the language that plagues the brain.
The pretentious words that print the page.
All are symbols understood in vain.
Watched as they dance for you,
in your peripherals just outside of view.
Fingertips poised in the witchcraft
of culling those to your gift of gab.
Oh how I try so hard to let them in
unable to realize where to begin.
I want to melt away to the sway hieroglyphs,
but burn to the beat of monoliths.
This ephemeral sense of longing
betrays a persistent ethos of belonging.
Buying a stunted sense of forever at cost
had no worth because I'm lost.

There, somewhere, is a place so familiar, that you've forgotten
and you didn't even know.
In this place is a building, decrepit, with walls well worn,
built with the least experienced of hands.
These hands, now gone, showed a tenderness in their craftsmanship,
a love now forlorn as the walls
Walls held up with the determination of creeping moss
that spreads through the corners of the halls.
Halls so sprawling as to confuse those who dare to come in
and seek the treasures within
These treasures hidden, repressed and no longer precious,
a sentinel to those left behind.
And these treasures you found within these halls
bound by these godforsaken walls
built by those who know, knew, and would never have
Reside in a building beyond all paths
That calls to you and all that you believe
To compel you in, so you'll never leave.

You
you are a contradiction of all things
an immense tropical storm majestically consuming all islands in your path
yet with all your strength, you sputter upon the main land
A destructive flame, preaching your ways to the forest
leaving behind naught but fertilization.
A maneuver that may breath life into you, saving your soul
and destroy your body
The object that defies gravity, spurning numbers and probability
in the most graceful fashion
Everything that was once oblivion, is now a beholder of all things
You are a contradiction, a collection of nothings and theories
A physic with the will to be or not
science to believe or a magic to perceive
Take pride in its discomfort,
it is the minds final reprieve.

Aye, yes, we've been here before.  
I see you remember me.
How long are you going to be here, existing on the precipice of
planing insurrections to gain the keys
to your resurrection?
A helpless and hopeless
festering yet motionless
Wretched shell that once graced an entire hall,
now sitting alone at this hole in the wall.
I'm here for you friend,
A fraction to whom you cant pretend.
we'll polish that fifth till a quarter to four
and lay our lives out on this cobblestone floor.
We are as cracks, grooved and carved by the storm,
that she wrought true to form.
Whats that?
Was there more of me than of you that drove her away?
They posit that I guided her here with guile and wit
unaware, ensnared, you are adrift with it.
Candied smiles, a laugh, a nibble, a flight.
Stifled dread, her whimpers, the scars, the fights.
The fitful sleep of lonely nights.
And it is as it was and only because
it reached the end of this frostbitten extremity.
Or did you want the affliction to last for eternity?
What a waste of endorphins better spent two timing with dopamine
to drown out what there was to prevent the abyss that will be.
Of course you wont listen to me.
The discourse of your double dealings
The despair that left you reeling.
The swinging rope adorning the gallows.
Gesticulation among the shadows.
A furnace to burn your feelings and cauterize
the wounds you inflicted upon your eyes.
I'm no more sinister than you are selfless,
a desire at various states of undress.
We are gland in gland through the steps of this misadventure
to a tune that bears no to time signature.
I'll envelop you in my various appendages
to drive home the clincher:
Though you may push me away for a while,
you will know who I really am in the dark,
by my smile.