Paving roads to recovery
I'm bound to first
Run down and bury
The last functional parts of me.

In my darkest hour —
Breathe shame
And radiate
Self-loathing.

At my lowest, I will preach
But not believe —
This fear ain't all of me.

At heart we're all still
Little kids that talk too much —
Walking the walk
We're taught to walk,
Next in line to set
The bad example.

There is a rhythm to the world,
A pattern to its melody —
A multitude of verses
Circling back to a chorus.
Even in all freedom
We crave the familiar,
Always returning
To its peace of heart.

Cry with me, I feel the same
Parallel truths and values —
Recognized, validated,
Single minded, if only
This one moment in time.

Absence in the shape of loss,
Memories of pain long faded.
Puzzles incomplete, sitting
With countless missing pieces —
Seeking solace in the simple fact
That some were never there,
While knowing
That most of them
Were you.

If you are
What you have,
You are nothing —
If you are
But a purpose,
Even less.

Intellectualism —
The curious phenomenon
That blinds those
Who should know better
Through ironclad conventions
And cultural skepticism.

I know
You are watching
When the moon
Is in the wrong location.

All and any intrinsic values
Indiscriminately infringed upon —
None of us entitled to special dispensation,
None of us elevated by moral law.

Detrimental good intentions,
Out of heaven, into hell —
Routes this regular commuter’s
Come to know far too well.

Captivated —
The death of an age
Was never
So entertaining.

Life withdrawal,
Hope needs light —
Struggling on
Unfamiliar ground.
After all,
We never started
At rock bottom.

Sanity, a broken puzzle,
Forcing us to
Fill in the blanks,
But at what cost?
I can't be bothered
With the hussle.

Thanks for your
Heartfelt critique,
But, no. Just no —
I may not fit the mold,
But you don't get to tell me
What poetry is.

Nothing's more relaxing
Than some well deserved
Profanity.

Fractured faith,
What's been seen
Cannot be unseen —
Battered with
The force of reason,
In the absence of belief
Cracks in our truth
Become the light.

Behind
The wall,
The dikes,
The morals,
Sheltered from
The world
Behind our fear —
The ozone’s whole,
The waters level,
While the climate
Keeps on changing.

Half a decade up in letters —
Some days fast and vanilla,
But usually they're
Deeper, thoughtful,
And, well, overall better.
Either way, thank you
For having words with me.