happy anniversary to the manic word depot

a year ago i climbed from under a mountain of razor blades with an idea to spit into the face of hiding from my illness

this sickness i had always tried to deny

put behind me

the years of beatings and drunken words like knives

to forge them, force them to cut as i see fit instead of sitting like a briar crown around my heart

i had higher goals at first

to document the search for love in a barren world of social media and selecting love based on heavily filtered pictures and brief vague mission statements

came close

opened myself up to the tempest and was shocked as lightning fried my innards and the pain ramped higher and higher

gave up on another wistful dream and began sharpening my words instead of dreaming

like a good fool i spent far too long clinging to desperate hope until it just became vile vitriol

a year

wasted words and only left wanting

long dead dreamer daintily picking scabs for relief

over the year three chances and three failures and one final decision to never try again

if you want me come get me but be prepared for a fight

i spit venom and my fists have long grown numb from hammering words of honesty into the fabric of my being

only play games on the television and never of the heart

the poet illiterate and his traveling festival of the blues

coming to a town near you

don’t bring the kids

evisceration shouldn’t be a family event

happy anniversary and thank you to those that read this swill and come back for more

one day it will be good

fingers crossed

time to reapply formaldehyde before the sutures leak

good night