What is this
I have become
And invisible to myself,
I cry for half a minute then
roll a cigarette and forget it.
To forget, I apologize if I misspoke
when I said all those broken words
I meant every invitation I never uttered.
Don’t you hear every thing I think?
On the brink and atop my toes,
the shore below beckons with craggy rocks
at times more tantalizing than
the battle at the mountain cliff top.
Martyrdom is so tempting,
a way of taking advantage of the confidence
of blind followers.
Kamikazii and suicide bombers take the easy way out.
That is not a warrior’s way.
Fight that shit out to the very fucking end,
if the message you want to send is about
and conquering the wind.
Wake up the world,
instead of chasing sleep,
maybe even you
will awaken again.