clamp

driven by the bells
of anxiety
thundering purpose
tension grows and wraps on itself
so i remind my inner coward
that the worst i can do
is nothing
that any effort
even if only known to me
is a step
a different kind of completion

pain dogs these later years
i look at the sky
say, “why me? ”
nobody answers
would be surprised if they did
clouds screaming “we hate you! ”
so day holds to its hope
the drip of a faucet
the click of a clock
the bite down on determination
really doesn’t take that much
to be a nothing

i think of how the world must be run by the devil
you laugh
but evidence suggests tampering
at the very least
it doesn’t hurt
they lied to us again?
new doesn’t cover it

should you eat something to make life better
do something
think something
see a certain way….

eh…. in the end it’s the person who understands duty
that sleeps soundly
while pain makes its own requirement
to wake the dead
and life is a bowl dreams
clamped tightly
oh so tight!
to chest where heart beats
never needing forgiveness
for imports of blinding pulse
desire is its own answer:
be grateful.
remember what is left behind
usually shows up around the next corner
hop skip and a jump
from where you fell to your knees
wanting nothing more than enough
kindness to feed
that lonely tear

look at me!
goals are not perfection
but you know i knew
the course
driven by the bells of anxiety
he makes fun of haunted
haunting (towers and torture)
but it’s not a future
that’s on display
driven by the bells…
every conscript promises better.

most only want a lasting fault
to be genuine (let the cracks show)

but me?
you decided i was lying when i said it hurts
because easier to believe
that strength is the last thing any darkness delivers

i wasn’t anyone’s plaything
but i watched
as silence in every mind grows
turned
created something
original if only for its
level of desperation

always wanted it more
only for the contrast
of when i walk away

dreams are plans
plans are a waste of time

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