I know who I am now.
I discovered my identity,
Grew strong enough to find my feet –
Now I’m no longer lost beneath
someone else’s shadow.

Time races onward unseeing, unseen,
Leaving traces of the places its presence has been,
Capturing moments that once roamed free,
Hoarding them in cages called memories.

So we race behind it, to find where it leads,
Run through the current its movement leaves,
Pushing our lives forward, one breath at a time,
We wonder what waits at the finishing line.

It’s the snarl inside me –
The vicious gnashing and clashing of
smashed teeth,
Of swollen tongue and bleeding gums.

It’s the bite-mark-shaped-heart –
The gnawed thighs and gouged and greedy eyes,
The crushed howls and unheeded cries of
my bullet-spotted, leopard-dotted lungs.

I’m a savage, splattered mess;
Dripping indecency from the heart of me,
Letting letters pore recklessly from
every sore and red-raw pore.

I’m the ravenous maw of madness;
Drooling long strings of sentences
that pool relentlessly
down the endless feed of the cyberverse,
Then disappear into obscurity
to be lost forevermore.

I’m the untamed beast
that’s been released
from the leash of other people’s shame –
Now I’ll feast upon my foolishness
‘Til I get caught again.

I need to bleed words,
I must ensure
they pour out of me
in a flood
of ****** poetry.

I must find a way to feel
these scars
I keep concealed
inside my mind,
Before they find a way to burst
out from behind
my shield and define
in long red lines
This secret pain I must
keep locked away
inside.

Stirring the depths,
Trying to find
a sign of light
a line of sight
a guiding light
to raise me from this mess,
But sometimes it simply feels like
I’m just stirring the deaths,
The empty breaths
and losing sight
of life.

Life through a lens.
Watching other people’s revelry
through the filter of a dead TV.
Perfect picture
perfect pitch
and an incredible intensity –
But it’s not life.
This vicarious festivity
neutered and numbed
by a precision of pixels,
This slum depiction of synthetics ideals
Is not life…

It begins with a beat;
A steady reverberation in an
elemental part of me.

Then the bass line comes;
A red-raw rush of energy
viciously visceral in my veins,
Elevating my feeble frame
From it’s meek and sorry state
To become something
Ferociously sublime.

And now I’m mainlining music,
Letting it
Soak into my skin
Infect my ears
Infuse my feat and
Bombard my quivering brain
With its beat
‘Til I explode into a mass
of minuscule notes;
Quick little quavers
like quarks
that waver, then stalk
through my mind,
Looking to find
fresh melodies, to which
my soul can bind
and bleed.

This is how it feels
within me,
When my body responds
to a purified beat;
This is true ecstasy –
When I fly on an
emotional high.