while his hands sing in diseased desire

for if a man is divided against the work of his hands

then any speech in his mouth falls flat

like notes of sound played by a novice

working with sweaty inexperience on a machine of supposed beauty

where practice does not make perfect i intersect

and the sound of furious exasperation rings out to fade away

dangle me from the rafters and speak empty promises

i glide into the pit to find my watery words

how can a mouth praise and curse you

how can hands work and play god

is there an end to apathetic nights

pour the blood from my palms and grow some convictions

halfway between death and existence is no home to build

everything fades in the end

nothing good can come from these trysts into the deep unknown

 

everything i love is dead

the lights shine softer when seen through empty eyes

these echoes will ring on through empty hallways

conviction and satisfaction

groaning in eager longing for revelation

for blindfolds and paper hands to be cast aside

i’m a child in the reflection

counting stars and battle scars

wondering when my hands will build a house on the rock

instead of waltzing endlessly between apathy and murder

growing in ways that make the monsters that haunt me

slink back in shock and ecstasy

all is lost when i am lost

all is vanity and vapor

passing like sand through my quivering fingers

seed sown into the rocky path

deep and wide and salivating in its patience

come and see what secrets lie in my depths

let gravity take you and have faith

 

i spit these words like empty shells

i fear that i may be a storm-blown ship

trying so hard to find port within my own hull

futility and desparation

eyes find sight

mouth seek truth

dear god let my grip hold you for one more minute

battle the pain and prove the impossible is not

but your sweaty palms slip from my sweaty palms

as the death of unloved love collapses under the weight of great tragedy

and gravity fulfills its earthly task

take away these unearned hours

thieves and vagrants are we all

thieves and vagrants will all ever be