Sound of your own heartbeat

All the noise
And
You
Just want
One minute of silence

Then you get it
And its bliss
For a little while

But eventually
You remember
When it used to be laughter
And talking
And people saying
Stupid shit that you want to scream at

But now its just this endless silence
Come home to empty
To the weight of the nothing
And what you wouldn’t give

For a few more minutes
Of noise

Change is too simple for what must be done

Life is long
And the dreams we had
When we were young
Seem so naïve now
Seeing the world through that lense
Where your opinions are a mix
Of what your parent told you
And what you rebelled against

I thought America was a shining jewel
A beacon of the possible
A hope in a world where the darkest parts of us
Often strut about on the stage

And now
I see its deep flaws
Its horrific tragedies
Its blatant lies

What once was golden is streaked
With green
That false gold
Eaten by exposure

We aren’t any more divided than we always were
We just have the tools to see it now
We aren’t limited by what the local paper publishes
By what makes it on the 3 channels of television

People’s egos get bound up in belief
People’s communities get bound up in single idea activism
It is hard to walk away from all you have ever known
Hard to hold a line when doing so loses every tie
Hard to accept that the belief you had
Was wrong

To embrace metamorphosis

Hope is a fragile thing

I sat down to write a poem
Finding its measure wanting
And its rhythm trite
I end up here once again
Pondering this lack of sight

I find my interest waining
Not in writing
So much as life

Never having planned to come this far
I find myself forced
Made to contemplate a future
One I was certain would never come

I have all of the pieces but not the puzzle
All of the dreams but not the hopes
And the world fades out
But nothing yet fades in

On the verge of destruction
Waiting for the groundswell
A last minute effort
To give that last push

Broken bow symphony

Hoping for a mythical past we wipe away the chance for a fabled future
A golden age proves to be little more than the dream of the thrashing fevered body politic
We cling to false hopes and outright lies rather than face bitter truths
All the while barreling forward
One inexorable second at a time
Towards the crumbling hellscape of the world we have turned our backs on
While we build up the fiction of prosperity
And cling to ideals long since tarnished
Jagged metal piercing palms
Convincing ourselves that this isn’t blood
Its rain

Shattered glass memories

Down on my luck
Nub burned down to charcoal
Sleeping my life away
When I’m not pushing to stay awake for as long as possible
A punishment for a happiness
Brain reeling
Why punish myself
What’d I do to deserve it
Just depression
Pulling at the boundaries
Eating away at the edges
Where I’m more vulnerable
Internal battlefields less sown with defences
Not defenceless
There’s fences
But keeping me in
Not it out
I’m trapped in here with it
Which of us the victor
When we’re both bleeding out