Word Play

It is not to be assumed that I cannot get through this day on my own.

  In the time it takes me to pick up the pieces I would have been half way around the world,

 but here I lay fractured and alone.

  Do not forget all of the trouble that it took to get here,

 because that would be a mistake.

  As they say its not the destination but the journey.

  Forget that though.

  If only I could fast forward through my mistakes that won't leave me alone though they do dwindle on the edge of my mind.

  Almost forgotten but never erased as things never can be.

  I attempt to decipher my own deceptions but that is futile enterprise.

  Give me sometime though and you will see what they've made of me.

 Do not think of me as one of those selfish people who blames my coming short on the bruises given by the others,

 I do have my own shortcomings that prevented from from stepping atop the precipice and I do understand my ladder is weary,

 but my feet are true.

  It may seem confusing,

 but its a mixture,

 a chemical forgery that dragged me through the muck and made me feel disgusted and faithless while all the others joined in raised hands to sing praises to the sky man.

   I'm not saying that I don't have faith,

 but when someone is stripped down to that inner nakedness its hard to find it in your absent pockets that which you believed.

   Sure pieces can be restored and storage spaces refilled but it is not at the present my present circumstance.  Please,

 don't end your gaze, i need your eyes to keep me full.

   Though I'm starved your sight gives me sustenance to make it through the doorway,

 and the door jam knows it. 

  Even in my current stay rays of sunshine will permeate the cloud if only you smile at me.

   And you have so that I may walk on passed the fire place that shoots out flames like bullets made out of clawing talons that seek out my heart and mind in order that it may rip them from their homes and destroy the roots therein.

  I'm not crazy, not now, never was.

   It is said that though I tripped up and broke the hearts of those who loved me most that I forged a path onward,

 not upward.

  To go up to the top of the mountain as I've already stated is something that I've only almost done.

   given that I'm not exactly sure how that could even be almost true,

 let us just dismiss that notion and return us to the task at hand. 

  I am moving onward,

 in a horizontal line that bares me forth into the arms of my aspirations and there is no room for warring hearts that seek to riddle me with rumor and gossip.

  I grow weary of fiscal responsibility but I clamor to the value of the dollar as dearly as some cling on to air.

  i need what I can get and nothing more,

 but the need will grow as i earn more.

   I'm lacking in my skills, sliding down the side of the cliff ready to be splattered up the floor as my brain already is scattered on the walls.

  In a very real sense I am mute. 

 Screaming though I may try I am seldom heard, but often hurt. 

 They think they do it for love but they do it for their inner most satisfactions and I do not blame them. 

 Let enterprising gentlemen solicit lovely ladies as long as they want it that way but don't let it be said i will pleased when a fistful of knuckles is struck upon her smile with the blow of a thousand lies.  

 When her blood bleeds sadness and the men pass on by her,

 i will wander by always on the outskirts of a desert devoid of spaces, 

praying though i don't believe, that she may see when once she was blind. 

 I'll attempt not to whisper too many words, 

but will speak volumes of praise and admiration and perchance she will hear me.  

But,

 who am I to joke on such things as Eagles do not see me only swallows and canaries.  

 There goes the blaming words,

 the slanted view of my slanted soul and I am but a lie.

   Not that I told but what the world labeled me, 

and even that too is a cheap ploy to garner sympathy. 

 Is it such a crime that I am lost in my own self-hatred,

 loathing and love.  

What i see reflected back in restroom mirrors is not the one that everyone sees, 

but how can this be,

 how is it they see anything but what I've seen? 

 I continue to doubt my appearance because how can they see this and think on high. 

  I'm no god, and they the angels I have sought.  

 Me, 

an imp lesser than devils given to ghastly outburst of pity and remorse.  

 Let the wordless people know that the homeless people know than an empty heart will feed no families but a broken heart will feed two.