My Life

Stripping down an attempt to make sense of what knife impales me in penance on my knees with constant rage and deep silence and deeper words falling through the bars of this cage inside my brain while fist beat me and nails claw me and at my feet is the puddle I bleed even though I can't see what's in front of me and can't stop the feel of what's behind the scenes of Act 1, stage left when my story opened to end, adrift in the oceans of fantacies and epic myths. When reality drove from the back seat of raw passion, and lost led lust and heat. And I, stood losing myself yet gaining opprotunity for a chance to be who was never scared to dance or cry and wake in the morning to find death starring me in the eye, instead of the child that screams and dreams and doesn't count without a shadow counting sighs and doesn't have pain without tantalyzing stings from razored fingered demons and aching tickles of pleasant dreams.