My Faults

We all have that moment in time were we wonder if we're on the right path.

Pull my hair;

Kick me while I’m down

Ignore me when I come around,

Apollo don’t exist.

Kick dirt in my eyes

And follow with a fist

I swallow all the shit

And bottle all of this

And wear it as cheap cologne.

The seeds were sown

And were fertilized

By this corpse who bleeds alone

Deceit was shown

Towards this sorry sack of flesh

With leaky bones

Who feeds on poems.

The feast was on!

See this vagabond’s

A bag of bones

Teetering

Like he’s way too cool.

Damn it all;

Whether east,

West,

North,

Or south

The broken compass reads,

“Either way you’re screwed”.

So I’m pacin’ in this maze of faces

Chasin’ patience this phase

Of basics, basis base is 
Where I stray and

Face it,

I know defeat,

Right down to how

It tasted.

Taste it

But never drink the Kool-Aid,

Apollo’s never loving them cults

Imperfect,

From my breath to my pulse

See allow me to reveal some of my faults.

I’m narcissistic, pessimistic,

And, really,

Any kind of “istic”

You can think of

Realistic,

A pleading misfit

Left out in the sun to dry

Or at least till I stink up.

A commitaphobe with issues

Of abandonment

I’m shocked

I haven’t panicked yet

Stonefaced like

A mannequin

With no advantages

And cuts with no bandages.

See us poets?

We bleed

For you,

Hang and crucify

Ourselves,

For you,

And I speak

The truth

But really,

There wouldn’t be an “us”

Without a crowd

So what we really need

Is you.

So here, this heart is yours

But these scars are mine

And they’re hard to hide

And I’m mortified

Over analyzing

All my issues,

I labeled them

And called it life.

I go through it

With an empty stomach

And a full bladder

It won’t matter

Till you bite the bullet

And it goes scattered

In the gut

Of the most addled.

But this yellow brick road,

Turned black

With thoughts telling me

To turn back from this cursed path.

Pretending like

I ain’t heard that

Chasing my own tail

With a hurt back and burnt fat.

Left snagged in the web

Of a black widow,

She owned a head wrap

And a swollen abdomen

God looking at me

Like “You just had to win”,

I count to ten and pick up

My ego but it was a counterfeit.

I don’t fit in,

Nah, not in this scene

Spitting it in double time

Like:

Gotta get in where you fit in

But the battle’s hard

Been thinkin’ of quittin’

And I’m battle scarred.

Or maybe I do fit,

Blame it on my

Outcastic nature

My issues are major

Questioning my existence,

I blame the God

That made ya,

I lost that wager.

The pointless person,

Like a lobotomized Batman,

Or a paraplegic Flash

An arachnophobic Spider man,

A Superman that’s afraid of heights

Not made to last.

So I’ll bottle all of this

And swallow all the shit

With dirt in my eyes

Followed by a fist

Pull my hair;

Kick me while I’m down,

Ignore me when I come around

Cuz Apollo….

Don’t exist.

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