Stop Pointing That Gun at Your Foot Kid

A bad habit, another gross grab at
poisoning your spirit-self, have at it
just don’t include me in your equation -
a mass evasion of the truth
I’m not one to be tucked under and hidden
a reason to festoon,
a lesion in your season of doom.
While you unwrap your sticky treat,
sit around and beat your meat -
add another vestige to your thrown
a notch to adorn some invisible bone
picked clean from your teeth,
throwing around treasure
like its garbage to bemoan
keeping a blind eye on your home
letting all the ill will spill
from your left open window sill
believing in nothing but still
sleeping in the fairies ring.
Wake-up, it’s time to fill
your head with something more than smoke
be strong enough to bring it
the treasure that hides in you
some zenith astuteness in your dome
be brave enough to put roots in
stop pointing that  gun at your foot kid.

Navigating Bone Ships In the Night

Fragile specks of stardust moving through self-created time
with delicate cases we hold universes inside our rattling bones,
continually searching to find the arms of the ones we call home.
The cruelty of life is the very device which carries us here
translucent suitcase of blood and skin
we leave the same way we enter and begin
nowhere nearer to be clear, but if only for one brilliant moment
we might see answers reflected across dazzling nocturnal skies,
lucidity found deep within the echo of our lovers eyes.
We are fools navigating bone ships in the night
with nothing to guide us, we are blind in our flight -
spiraling flesh hurtling along the crust of a molten shell
amplifying the culpability of our own obliteration.
We fore tell the end quicker than recognizing that we even began
hiding the irreplaceability of our souls,
we refute what we intrinsically know.
Burying our fragility amongst duty to forces unknown -
invisible rules denying our profundity,
hidden amongst a lack of nudity,
the absence of love leaves us all bare.

Winter Squall

My future bare, heart exposed, raised to the heavens
simultaneously diving into unknown seas -
I am the rigging at the bow of a ship,
tossed headlong into a winter squall,
dark skies churning with vehement frenzy
water above and below, no horizon, futures bygone
only the rise and fall of my breath
keeping me alive through salted spray,
choking down the reflection clouding my eyes
filling my mouth to keep out the lies.