sometimes. you just have to
break windows to make a point.
a testament of your vulnerability.
and the world isn't beautiful simply because
there are water drops on the glass.

in the way that cameras capture the past.
pictures are never worth the words spoken in time.
and there's no such thing as infinity.
the frames are just a little blurry
and you have to remember that
no matter what you do

you will hate life. more than life will hate you.

it's something like the skies whispering answers
in thunderhead form.
and I'll stay steady asking
with morse code lighters. and broken bottles.
in sand storm battalions. my feet are at war with passion.
standing tall never feels good when the wind blows.

and tonight, the stars have never spoken so loudly.
the words come out like lyrics.
singing of what I'd think if i ever was where
I wished I was.
and I realize. that poetry is nothing
but pointless vandalism.
so I spray on.

and destruction has never felt so good.

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