DOWN AND ABOVE

I want to close my eyes, uncover my truth, and separate it all from their shit-covered lies. The anger is building up like it never did before, but it is only an emotion, and like the storm, it will pass as long as the shaking does not last.

People look at me and say the fire is in your eyes, but what's more critical is continuing to go hungry or seeing through what you started, which is the fight that has now become for the faint at heart.

My eyes are open to a different type of light, for I am the type of sinner you can not pray for when you invite me. To your table and of my tales, you keep asking for more.

My ears have heard family and friends say they love me, but where are they when I'm down and above? I'm hungry; I need to feed. No longer do I care to spill the blood that I no longer bleed.

I close my eyes and remember the hell I had walked through when, in those moments of my silence, I was dead. My mind is open, so the heaven I created no longer lives inside my memories. Reality now seems to be stranger than fiction.  Now, I sleep inside the darkness of what appears to be one endless night.