in
the end
finding
someone who can love you
for
whom you really are
protection
peeled, laid bare
is
what’s going to be material
when
you are taking your last breath
the
disagreement and disbelief
of
those who watered your hurt
will
never occupy a lonely bed
and
you know what?
all
the philosophical, political, theological
are
defense mechanisms
to
sooth your anger with justification
deflect
the truth
that
all you really feel is alone, unaccepted
unless
you’ve projected
an
acceptable view to the crew
until
you are a functioning alcoholic
i’m
tired of crying in the wilderness
baptizing
the lepers that exist
in
the socialism of my mind
while
everyone defecates my internalities
and
are so disgusted
they
flush without looking
i’m
emotionally exhausted from dancing
with
schools of thought
on
how to detach
exist
alone
when
all i’m really doing
is
consuming anything
which
helps me forget
how
alone i really feel
oh
the things i’ve done to feel loved
right
or wrong
the
baseball glove
secures
the wild pitch
the
pitcher never meant to throw
but
too many wild pitches
and
you are no longer adequate
to
command the mound
to
satisfy everyone’s expectations
how
do saints give and give and give
immortalization
with canonization
while
i exist within the space
of
a trace
that
there may be grace
for
someone who knows
but
can’t bestow
the
allotment meant for endowment
ignorant
idiots idolizing
the
insignificance of individualism
cannibals
who feed with endless need
but
i only have so much flesh
again
i’m emotionally exhausted
called
in sick to the solace
so
i could linger in the layers of late night
sipping
schnapps
smoking
walking
where no one is at hand
to
make demands
phone
off
traffic
drowning out a cough
from
a cold i won’t let take hold
allowing
myself to shelve everything
amid
my poems of nihilism
because
i’m just a guy
who
will be putting away
the
last of the laundry
that
is waiting for me
turning
out the lights
quandary
a bed in which
there
is never a reason to be naked
wondering
how i got from being
the
author of the first volume of
the
dark streets of decay
to
this way
where
all that remains from those days
are
the alcohol and cigarettes
***
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