by James Hirt
dice
I am rich though I’ve never been paid
Return good with bad; that’d be nice
I’m so young but I’ve definitely aged
I’m benevolent if it works for me
I’ll avoid it if it stays out of my way
Cost is no object as long as it’s free
I don’t know the rules but continue to play
Running my mouth but not speaking a word
Empathy for sorrow makes one glad
A logical and wise look at the absurd
It’s on me if you’ll pick up the tab
Misanthropic
Ascetic, cynical apex
Pessimism infiltrates with will in tow
That what moves out comes back guarded
Factual handouts rarely will show
Psychotropic kin
A friend to distrust
The vine grows and weaves its way in
Outsiders nonplussed
With age comes dubiety
Experience returns to the existential
Peering through our notoriety
Is the human dark potential
Evil with potential for good
Paradoxical axiom imagined
This verity seldom understood
Can’t go back to what I had been
Suspicion
Distrust
Hatred
Blood lust
Ulterior Motives
Pondering actions
What force that truly drives?
Distrust brings satisfaction
Am I aiding this quandary?
Does the burden rest on me?
Am I astute or all wet?
I choose a dilatory plea
My Attic
My attic is a selfish place
A place where I’m alone
It can be comfortable but it’s not safe
It’s where peace of mind lay prone
A dark and crowded space
Where sanity caves in on itself
Digging for what brings a smile to my face
But finding things, which bring something else
This musty and shadowy room
Is where I store what shouldn’t be saved
I am the pack rat of doom
Yet downstairs all are well behaved
I am consumed with opening
That which should remain untouched
There’s no amount of planning
That shields painful mementos of the past
Stumbling over the grim
Looking for the honorable that I can’t find
For the desirable, the pickings are slim
It’s either too dark or I’m self-defeating and disinclined
Over time many of these things have devolved
And thus are overdue to be pitched
Traversing, up and down, the staircase of resolve
This cell, I’ve noticed, is beginning to smell like shit
I’ve not the strength to carry them
I continue to ignore that which shouldn’t be
The things with which I have no problem
Are instruments, which strangle me
The longer I stay in this place
The more comfortable my obsession
A time to wear my black heart and thick face
This, to most, an idiomatic expression
A cluttered spot
Teeming with vermin
A Gordian knot
The prostitute virgin
I’ve locked myself in
Hello?
Never
When reminded of you
The demons release
If I could only expunge
Every disobliging memory
Though the good should be sanctuary
It drags me back; you’re a dog in the manger
If I could only erase you
Then could I truly move on
Eviscerated trust from the blameless
Your barbarous creation has lain to waste
The very anima of your progeny
May this reality hunt you without rest
When I meet with the martyr’s eyes
I wish on you doom and despair; an endless waterloo
For the trail you’ve blazed you’re paying a heavy price
For what you’ve done is vicious
You would have me to fail for your good
I will use my mistakes to your detriment
I once thought I could put this behind me
I cannot forgive you
I cannot forgive you
Forgiveness is a lie
A luxury set aside for the divine
Beyond my reach
I won’t entertain what I’m incapable of
I’m focused
I’m faceless
I’m brazen
I’m shameless
I will accost you without fear
Boldly will I descend on you
I will assail you with all ferocity
To apprise you of my hatred for you
A reminder of the mind-fuck you’ve cursed them with
I have a will of iron
One strengthened by pain on high
You once had access to the inner room
Though the damage is irreparable, the bleeding has stopped
Your attacks are puerile and futile
There’s a smell in the air of cowardice
A book-smart whore you’ve lost your grip
Returning daily to your vomit
Like a severed artery
My disgust for you spills on the page
Flowing so smoothly
So smoothly and quickly that I’ve lost my rhyme
Never speak my name again
Never speak my name
Never speak my name
Not Alone
“You’re not alone”
Empty and heedless words
Just words
To fill the hanging silence
Incomer unable to empathize
Sympathy sates nothing
Though no evil is intended
It makes me take a step back
Interacting with no connection
Scattered frequencies
Stagnant and motionless
Clouded
Knowledge of what exacerbates
Has no voice
Fated to subvert myself
Ride this fucker into the ground
Learn to breathe again
Fight the urge to bury
Self-honesty has a vile spin
Self-doubt’s methods are many
The grievously initiated
Who have suffered through this
Help steer with forethought
And hand me the 4-1-1
Thank you
Own
I can’t remember meeting with
Did I harden to the rule?
Could it be that I’m the victim?
Or the guilty who I’ve misinformed
The grounds upon which I bring this question
I’ve got things which shouldn’t be
I cannot put this under issues
I will not cloak this evil in me
I’m displaying what was never shown
Don’t look to him I’m not the yield
I’m the author it starts with me
I will not blame this on another
This thing in me; this selfish thing
The enigma by which I’m pushed aside
If I could remove it: then what?
What would fill the space?
It waits in me with perfect timing
Who has who? Am I in control?
If this intruder is not wanted
Why can’t I break its virile hold?
I am the creator yet I am the slave
I’m grasping for some kind of fix
The fashioned has become the master
I’m living in a world of shit
Reminded of the past
-the damage
This is all mine, all mine
Guilty keepsakes strike the conscience
Natural consequences naturally fit
How do I chase it off?
If I don’t know its origin?
The shallow give voice “just stop”
Waxing eloquent when it’s not their sin
I own it
I’m told that’s the first step
Feckless banter solving nothing
It’s the first step to nowhere
The height of the mountain
Resides in the breadth of the base
I’ll have to dig then hew it down
Best chance to alter my fate
It is mine
Pin it Down
My propensity for true love is derisory
Being flat I’m incapable of letting anyone in
Can I look past my self-appointed advisory?
Has pain and seclusion erased what I once might have been?
I question if I’ve ever been close to anyone
Am I latching on to something chimerical?
My love offering smells of carrion
My loss for words is ineffable
When I’m with someone
I feel that I’m cheating them
Though upfront and honest about expectations
Resentment and apathy are the rule of thumb
Is the pursuit of true love futile?
Is this something that I need to get over?
Has false inculcation had me fooled all the while?
Somebody flip the coin because I need closure
Empty thoughts from an empty head
Miles separate what was meant from what was said
Though I selfishly lay blame on the past
This is, regrettably, my only reference; my life of contrast
Is this the common malady for all of mankind?
Or am I so bent that I’ve made it a truth in my mind
Finding solace in isolation I must be the outlier
This shouldn’t be but how does one change how they’re wired?
I’m hidden away, tucked in my corner
Shielded and avoiding communication
An endless struggle with this as it gives me no quarter
My own created but hidden damnation
Prisoner of Choice
Lay the archetypal foundation
Bolster and strengthen
Reinforce with rationalization
Protecting a theoretical legacy
Inference from an incomplete base
Only a small slice of the pie
Feel free to expand your mind
In your subjugated space
Are your choices now at full breadth?
Are you choosing from a