Patchwork Brain Storming

I’ve drunk the flavour  
of my own monsters  
felt their piquant burn
deep in my kidneys
where it’s cold fire  
and hot piss
 
I pause
 
ponder the precarious
thresholds we walk upon
steady foot falls are  
the grounding that tether us to
terra-firma
 
lost track of the time I’ve needed  
to buy back the trust I burnt  
lies sometimes felt more real than
the door frame I smash my head against
in frustration  
 
words won’t fall from my lips
choking me on delicious insanity
I lip sync to the sky
to a God that’s forsaken me
my prayers are answered by the patter of falling rain and a silent moon not quite full, as if I’m the monster I seek to run from
 
 did you know not being able to
scream
I want you
 can tear your head apart
 
drinks sink deep into the liver
burn in all their toxic glory
I find
happiness is as glossy as the pages
of all those fake smiling faces
preaching their pseudo lifestyles
as if we’re all made from the same  
plastic mould
 
when I know some of us are stitched together
from ghosts and trauma
as if Frankenstein’s monster
was our template

the storm that lit his fire
ran out of rain
left him to rage
for eternity