i recognize
the contradiction
in my diction
as i lay another
row of bricks
to cask of amontillado
myself away from
everyone and everything
whining in semipoetic
heartmurmurs for
salvation from
the archvillain of
my story only seen
in momentary glimmers
on reflective surfaces
as i recycle agonies
to put myself in
the right mental state
to pen the next great
ignored vivisection
between pain and madness

breakng myself into
the necessary slivers
in which to slice open
the penumbral dissodence
unleashing emotional hell
while i scribble madly
from my perch nestled
in the heart of ground zero

i can dream
yet not allow myself
a true taste of
happiness if i want
my quill to run
the right shade of red
to distill detachment
etching insanities
which remain unread