DRIVEN
When I die
I want to see my bones
Leaned up against rock walls
Alongside every highway
Still holding
That settling bottle of brew
Dangling earrings
In the spirit of my long, curly hair
Surrounded by tumbleweeds
Who lost their place in time
Facing purple
From every direction
Jimmy Hendrix “Angel”
Playing in the background
Intoxicating smell of open fire
Keeping me warm by moonlight
On those cold, dark winter nights
I want to feel raindrops
Tap dancing on my hollow bones
Still listening to the music in the wind
Between the shadows of falling leaves
Of pine, oak and pecan
In my other
Bony hand
Sits a list of names
Of every abuser in existence
With some of the names, crossed out
The taste of redemption will be my aura
My guilt, will no longer, anchor me down
Rock walls holding up my bones
Bottle of brew in one hand
List of abusers in the other
Wearing nothing but the aura
Of redemption
And a pointy pair
Of kickass boots
DAGGERS
Between the lines
Of night and day
Fearless whispers crept by
Soliciting a common voice
Engaged in probabilities
Of the unkind
Words become swords
Dropped from steeples
Hovering over lunatics
Ancient wines
Bitter with animosity
Leave behind an aftertaste
Of disgust and ridicule
Vinegar aesthetics
Remove the source
Of contamination
Criticism
Spontaneous ridicule
At the cost
Of self esteem
We ponder vengeance
At the edge of the bed
Staring into solitude
Before and after
Common ground
Is not enough
Worthless
Piece of paper
Granting union
Without a clause
A multitude
Of lingering thoughts
Loiter within a façade
Of happiness
Time stands still
Allowing history
To repeat itself
The cycle continues
Pushing the pedal of abuse
One word at a time
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