On Taming Tongues

The hardest thing about shutting up
will always be
swallowing my pride
and letting silence speak instead of me

silence won't always look golden
but words already spoken
can never be silenced

what i cast in impure metal
will never be gold

what should be said
rarely sees the light of day

while what should never
see the light of day
pollutes the air

What is my strength
and what do my words matter?
when i say absolutely nothing
in the loudest voice

all i spit
only repulses, creates disharmony
and sprays on all those around me

building nothing but rust
debilitating and destroying

so cast me down
and take my speech

I'd rather be force fed meaningful silence
than gorge myself with meaningless words
that only get thrown up on those nearest me

let my silence make others golden

When I Say Time, I Mean a Lacktherof

My fear is large and formless

shape shifting

like a shadow that doesn’t get stamped out in the light

it looks like darkness

it looks like death

it looks like loneliness

and it looks like people

it grows like anger

a small flame that feeds this formless entity

no light penetrates

a fortress i don’t want seen

i reach out in vein

all i do is in vein

because my pride

is what i clutch inside

fear of you

and fear of me

being swallowed by the tide

while others stand tall

i see my fear

i see my shame

a towering wave

will pull me out to see

my fear

in a perfect form

like water

filling all the cracks and openings i haven’t closed

i can’t figure out, where it was

that i became 

what i sought to protect

The King of... Drama

hair raises, vision blurs, hands shake and sweat.

loss of speech, all mental connection to every function severs

wrong or wronged?

no sense of feeling as this gorilla throws a tantrum
and feces all about the room

the king of apes
the spectacle of stench

center of attention
only viewed from a distance

loss of control is no reason for pride,

now i’m sent back to the night
spent staring at that street light

cast out, and alone
because of pride
and fear’s anger

where have i gone
from there to here?

to be staring at a past
that’s standing before me

spin out of control
and puke from the dizziness.
covered in grammatical bile
and babbling like a baby

should i stand up now?
or have someone stand for me

clean myself off?
or make someone do it for me

pride shatters my image
my life
and my love

leaves me standing alone
with self pity and and a mirror

will i walk on two legs
and accept my own folly

or bound on all fours
in a selfish, empty jolly

…

the king of drama
the lord of self

i stare at myself in the mirror, not surprised, but surprisingly horrified. i’ve seen this before, dribbling, sniffling idiocy, stumbling over myself trying to justify spilled milk. pointing fingers and passing blame, angrily silent and blindingly ridiculous.

the boy who screamed at you, “this is a wolf!”
after he was shown it was merely a dog.
dumbfounded and repulsed,
you cocked back your hand

i, the king of drama
and self delusion,

find a bruise on my cheek, i’m sorry i didn’t see it sooner,
before i drank that potion, before i split into two.

hiding behind word and the occasional rhyme
when all i should say, is i’m sorry i lost it.

i’m sorry i hurt you

i’m sorry for my pride, the overgrown monster that you called out
and me who lashed out protecting it,

i came here for you, not a monster,
so, covered in blood, i wash my hands of that thing

and say, i’m sincerely sorry, for how i treated you