Preacher

Like some petrified opus
I ached to bloom
To molt the last eighteen-hundred days
The fire escape acted as my pedestal
Letting smoke and ash penetrate my insides
I unleashed the torture
I released the freeze
Suddenly uninhibited to speak gospel
I was your maestro
My secrets
No longer kept quiet
As easy as they came… I wept
No restraints
My paralyzed heart and mind
Corrupting your ideals
I have two feet to walk on
But only half a mind to know which way’s right
Or left
What’s left?
A broken messiah
Who seeking herself
The frozen tundra of my soul
Cannot house the homeless
However I am not home un-less
My heart coexists
With the key
The answer
To the question
My mind refuses to reveal

Heart Broken Banter

How does one
    like me
Write herself out of a corner
If I try
The walls come tumbling down
A myriad of memories attack my nimble limbs
And ask my heart to do the impossible
                       Beat...
Pumping lines of lies into hollow arteries
    that have forgotten how to dance
My world cannot move without music
You refuse to speak
Or I cannot listen
All other decibels could never be so sweet
I seek melodic hypnosis
In rhyme schemes so complex they are subtle
    yet contradictory
Like you
Like me without subtlety
I find myself detesting platitudes with a fierce mix of
    passion and envy
For all those times I dismantled my world
My sanctimonious reality
Is now the one I wish to worship
I want to lay out all the pieces and assemble
                     Masterpiece...
I tear at the twice too many wounded breast
Perhaps opening her up to oxygen & air
To this polluted city
To this farce I call home
Perhaps she will mend with the stench of something uglier
Than this doubt
    and self deprivation