There's nothing like that silent moment
when I reach through your eyes and latch on to your soul,
and something there tells me you feel it...

then I realize, those aren't my eyes
but rather a product of my lies
as I try to escape the world I so desperately wanted
so many years ago.

Then the mind does its deed,
creating horror in paradise
as I imagine the "ifs", "ors" and "buts"
that would leave me nothing more than a shuddering mass
in my own solitary re.con.finement
with nothing but an extra foot
to kick my own ass for eternity...

Where moments before,
as I felt like a god reaching out to grasp porcelain beauty,
I now pull back hands full of dust
and powdered glass

...and realize I had hold of my own worthless self






and I cry.







Nobody understands why I run,
but I tell you now...
for all that I am
is a broken down man
who should have never gotten here at all.



...and I look over the edge
to see a reflection of myself
beckoning me lower, into flames,
so the pain I create can be repaid.

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