Architect

Icy
Cold and though my chest like a cathedral
Is filled with sounds of symphonic worship
My lips are locked.
Sealed to keep the winter out
But churning up old snow.
The dogs that prowl my perimeter
My salty shield against the slush they throw
The spine-like staircase spiraling inwards
To each booth, another crevice
To file each thought.
Organized into separate lines
One after another
After another
After another
Until the walls burst like buttons
From a coat too small.
And I preach to a crowd of Mes
Each a variation of the bricks
I've laid to keep my complement
Frozen.
Taking charge of this energy
This heat my body creates
To hopefully furnace a new copy
Not carbon
But malformed.
Though for now
My heart beats
As if screaming in a sound-proof room.


-------------------------------------------


I made myself stop writing so I could eat food before work instead of starving myself. I fear my adjustments are for naught. My solution is to work harder and fuck up less. All I need is within me. So there is where I will be.

Green Static

Heading for a smokescreen
Green static in the wind
Taking it or leaving it
But it drags behind

Heading for the streetlight
Thinking it will pick me up
Waiting for this moment
But it won't ever come

In this moment
We are wrapped like vines
Twisting up and
Breaking into minds
This hollow hole
Will never know
They creep but walls
Choose not to speak

Wrinkles, crinkles, pathways
Maps to future better days
Holding our hands tight
And letting words fly loose

Heading for a smokescreen
Speeding it up to see
Just how fast we can go
And still survive the crash

In this moment
We are wrapped like vines
Twisting up and
Breaking into minds
This hollow hole
Will never know
They creep but walls
Choose not to speak

Worth One-Thousand Pictures

Shedding dead-skin sweaters
Across this lye-soaked thread
Weaved to 1000 count
The scarves we smother ourselves with
Men made to stand their ground and die
But I
Fall through this earth
As if racing to the blaze will only singe
The dirt beneath my fingernails

So I
Fall through this ground
Plow through the sound
Of each inch compressed
Fall through this ground
I fall through all the ground
That I have gained

Sundays spent marching through sun-showers
To find just one dry spot
To hang my head in
Eternally smelling the pine
Stationary
Longing
For the things that aren't mine
Hang these mirrors
Cover the walls
To grow me brave
Sanction this grave

So I
Fall through this ground
Plow through the sound
Of each inch compressed
Fall through this ground
I fall through all the ground
That I have gained

You say many things in the dark
That you can't make stay out past rise
And though the leaves may change their shade
I can see through their weak disguise
Because I still know what you are
Your trembling exposes lies
I'll let the insects find their place
To fill the cracks of this divide

I stand my ground
As the earth shakes