self mocked with joy
cloaked in the darkness of days marching towards me
parcels of agony left on my doorsteps
should i be glad i get packages at all
or angry that they are full of splinters and paper to write on and get cuts from?
i throw them crashing to the ground
and dont even get the satisfaction of a breaking sound….

instead…
silent shards of glass, like
pins placed in my eye to cloud vision
to block heaven
piercing visions of my own reflection
pain pointing through me
laughing maniacally
feeding me demons intravaneously
well i hope you’re happy now

did you get the cocktail just right?
one pint of happiness so weak to a few drops of anguish strong enough to burn holes through metal
i drink it down willing to be in turmoil to taste any small luxury…
i want to settle down but every card drawn is a joker
and i’m choking on needles
dipped in my skin
to check on me they say
or for aid to the back crackin suffering.
still i drag karma alongside
struggling not to let it define me

yet…

i keep getting these deliveries that
i cannot return to sender
waterless rain
sandless deserts
life without meaning
love without touch
fate without rhythm

pain without end…