hey, stupid
write it down
before it’s gone.

drinking from the cup
after the coffee’s cold
satisfies nothing.

you want the bite
and the sting
while it’s still fresh.

later, it’s just the ring
left by the memory
of what you had.

drink it now
and savor it
before it’s just regret.

bleed it out
burn it in
revel in
the inbetween
the open wound
the remaining scar
blacken the heart,
embers under the soul

incisions
excisions
remnants

endure it
overcome it
remember it

pure in pain
sure in growth
quenched in agony
tempered in fury
whole in memory
strong in faith
what remains is better.
everything else is chaff.

decency grovels on
in hidden hovels
head down, trembling
while the man rages on,
storming the walls
indifferent to all
calls for restraint
pushing, pulling, ripping apart
rules meant to sustain

preening in disdain
greedy for gain
laughing at pain

burn it down
blow it apart
bleed it for sport
roast it over fire
char it bitter and black
and serve it with ketchup,
wrapped in despair.

bon appétit.

what is the point
when everything just serves
why?

when do we see
where the words land
is why they exist?

will you try to explain
when your words stray
beyond your intent?

why?