Caverns

Never really had a home.
Wandering confused in the catacombs,
worshipping the rocks and bones.
Hanging off stalactites
and the wisdom of rats,
birds and bats that back away
from cat fights to take in the
sights and write about their nights
in the most magnetic of poems.
I only hope that I can get to know them.

An odd one,
with a piss stained mattress.
Set fire with the bic
and retire to dreams producing pit stains,
dizzy thinking of some actress.
She is water and I'm a hollow
want to be cactus, I could
drink you up with just a little practice,
please ignore my back zits
and my current mixtape's tracklist,
I'm a little lit and on some sad shit.
Lord please let me have this.

In spinning rooms,
I sweep the ceiling with brooms
and lace my shoes to trace out
my steps from ocean floors
to sand dunes. I danced with wolves
in Satan’s palm to 60's rock tunes
and I am gone, a journey to the moon
until tomorrow at noon, or maybe
forever. But who knows, after all it's only June.

The cavern walls, emanating calmness.
I am deep and will not be found
until I dig down and start to solve this.

Who am I, why do I chase the shadows?
Why am I at peace amongst the meanest of battles?
Why do I push away, people I love?
Why do I feel alone while I'm in the center of hugs?
Why do I seek hurt,
and so often draw blood to my shirts?
Why dig up my dirt and paint my face
in recycled war paint just to scream at the earth?
What's the reason I'm an unfeeling savage
who self sabotages, just to later be mad with myself.
Why am I lost in a season that sees
me having to hide my own belts.
Inhale deep, I seek through
my past in hopes to coin some
healing phrase from it's wealth.


Nothing, but I won't chase any help.
Now its all moot,
my world gone black.
Kept from truth, I sit back and
throw my rocks to watch em splash,
humming those tunes.
I might as well go back soon,
but I suppose it's only June.
A spark, a flash, a flame and I
drag myself back to the Hell.