Twenty-one

Twenty-one
My heart stops to bleed
I try to remember
For these twenty-one memories
Would blow embers into flames
Would define passion
But my brain is half-shattered
I've been much too proud
Of my self-inflicted lobotomy
Apathetic at the time
Dumbed down and numbed now
To the point
Where it just doesn't seem to matter
And it doesn't
Except in moments like these
When a bubble of the past
Rises to the surface
Of my half-set grape kool-aid gelatin head
To taunt me with jigsaw fragments
Puzzle pieces scattered, most lost forever
But the ones that come together
Fire lust within me
Give me the slightest hope
Cherished nonetheless
Of twenty-one

"Forgetting"

Ghosts and Spirits whirl like dervishes
Caught and crammed in a soft metal silo
Freed from time but tied to space by a coil
Clinging to dream, the lucky few
Vacate the hive for a minute
A short moment of remembrance
Denied a quick forgetting
Or consigned to lonely park benches
Behind seldom opened doors
Locked in basements, difficult to enter
Segregated from the swarm
Yet cursed in cherished imprisonment
They never grow old
They envy the ones ignored
Those who are being forgotten
Breaking their chains for good
Melting into the atmosphere
Where they belong
Parting the dead sea
They crawl without a leader
Too numb to appreciate this unexpected exodus
Caring less for those left behind
Knowing that they, for all their loneliness
Are the blessed ones

A Second Coming

I can't talk with my mouth full of water
But I'll try

What are you doing here?
I would have thought you'd be
Dry, bare bones by now
I'd come to terms with the memory
Filed and stored it in a dusty chamber
Where it's power could not hurt me
Anymore
Sealed in a strong locked box
I thought I had mastered the anger
That I'd dominated it through the tears of others
Though it had eaten me
To leprous skin and bone
Forgiveness seemed easy
When you were so far away
Because I wanted to love you so badly
But now you're back
Your own anger almost dwarfing mine
Your own tears, earned honestly
Though not half as innocently as my own
And you're still repeating your mantra
I will never forget
Your message, your signal flare
Something you needed me to know
With all the urgency of confession
(As if that were an excuse)

"My nerves are shot
My nerves are shot
My nerves are shot
My nerves are shot"
You always had a knack for stating the obvious

Until today I had managed
To squelch that ridiculous chanting
But here you are again
Showed up almost out of a dream
Needing a sponge
To soak in your rage
(None of my doing)
Begging me to stitch your heart back together
(I haven't the surgeon's skill)
Punching holes in walls
(.....)
Getting your knees dirty
Asking for miracles
Expecting me to pull them off
Ultimately disappointed
Hallucinating power for me to wield
Not realizing
That my back had already been broken
By the same sad world
That broke yours

The Narcissistic Mystic

Floating in a muck-filled puddle
The narcissistic mystic studies
The tainted gleam in her greedy eyes

A fog mist, salty poisoned sweat
Dribbles maps and legends, roads and highways
That tattoo her entire body

She courts tragedy in a lint ridden black dress
And despises the light
That calls forth her reflection

An aura...a stench
Wafts from her half-rotten husk
And sets a perimeter

Which I dare not cross
Lest she drag me down
To drown in the scum laced waters

Of her mysticism