A Moment II

My thoughts are my weapons
The rise of my voice your warning
My words the bullets that maim you

This is my violence, my butchery, my fascism
I am God when you come within my knife
I am your mother, your father, priest, liar, and sanctuary
Your blood is only a reality found
My love, a haunted thing that sticks like spider webs
You are blind where I can see
I feel where you cannot touch
Like double bass drums, I’ll beat the audio out of you
John Bonham will die twice before I feel sufficed
I am the predicate and you are my subject
So I will subject you to the sadism that slumbers
In the ebb and flow of literary torture devices
You are my hate trilogy and this is the final chapter

Welcome to the coda, my final dance with these feelings
I am struggling on strange extremities, foreign limbs
Learning to walk on virgin legs, grabbing touch with ghost hands
This body is not a temple, it’s a prison
Your body’s not a temple, it was my prison
I have fed it Occam Razor blades for years,
Rationalizing the irritation
This yeast was deadly, giving no rise to a limp ego
Love lingers in the pointy end
So stick endearments in the eyes of the harlots
I’ve met a few, the most honest dishonesty I’ve known

Someone’s got heart on their hands
Someone’s got heart on their hands
Life cradled on their life lines
Sailing the creases as the waves of passion
Fiercely break against callouses
Slowly built by the wheels of midnight pain
I have lost where winning is the only game
No draws in these dilemmas
No mutuals for consumption

Someone’s walking the world heartless
Someone’s walking the world heartless
The life support is on and the reaper has the plug
The dark thing is ready to pull
The bright thing is sleeping at the cloud
Drunk on false prayers
Smiling against all of the frowns
Stumbling on the lines to divinity

This isn’t truth, it’s a moment
This is hate swimming in syntax
Defined by grammatical borders, birthed from unrest
He is better than most and most are better than you
This is a life with you no longer in it
When I saw you
I knew the damned
would inherit the earth in the end
Words are fun
Words against you are priceless
This is petty with no Richard kissing trophies
You are an accident with no insurance
And if love is a Crippled God
then he rests in a House of Chains
watching an Infinite Jest

But what if I believed everything was brilliant?
What if I got to where I have always been?
What if I was wrong and you never questioned it?
What if I believed the lie in the truth?
What if I Laissez-faired instead of analyzed?
What if I lived when lethargy was easy?
What if I chose to die happy?
What if I loved and lost but loved again?

This is my violence, my butchery, my weapons, my words
They put me on the rack, while they just poke you
This is my warning to myself
These are my thoughts
And this is my voice rising
So loud I cannot think.