As I think on it now

It would have been impossible

For you not to know

That something serious

Had just happened

Even at our young age

Even as you were busy entertaining

When you hear skull slam cement

You must have known

That your “are you ok?”

Should have been a priority

Should have come sooner

Should have been pooled with

A mad dash and concern

And shame on me

That I excused you then

And the next time

And the next time

And the next time

For 35 years

You were consistently you

And as my head was cut open

It was consequentially true

That I absolutely did not expect you

To be even slightly concerned

Which you took as relief

But I meant as reality

Emptied of any feeling

One way or the other

I’m not one who will ever say

Yes, come to me

Prioritize me

But, as I think on it now

It would have been impossible

For you not to know

That something serious

Had just happened

What if

My special

Spoiling

Of myself

Comes because

I do not see you

My God

As I should

And because

I don’t see others

As people

As I should

To be freckled with adulation

That is a difficult thing

To be fitted for crowns

That vanish Monday

The 11 o’clock hour

Announces the ring

Of a time lapse existence

Where nothing will change

Years will bring promise

Of hope minimally fulfilled

Where songs can’t be great

And laughter is insistently sealed

Where maybe a glint

Will foreshadow glee

Yet will most likely swallow

Pleasure received

Carefully controlled mute

Blocks out the applause

Or simply will not see

What all the fuss is about

It was never there you know

Never there, the waterfall

Just a trickle permitted

Just inevitable stall

Just inevitable stall

Won’t allow pedigree

Perhaps for the haunts

Perhaps it skips me

It could occur with all men

Why take it personally

But you suffer most of all

Consequently

To be freckled with adulation

That is a difficult thing

To be fitted with crowns

That vanish Monday

When you get

The way you get

You are like a cold brick wall

Found just where the exit should be

No way out but to feign responsibility

And backtrack as if we have no problem

But you are the mason alone

And you are the cartographer alone

Because you can’t control your temper

You are that child thrashing about

With arms and legs flailing, screaming

And you can’t make it right

You never could, you never have

You leach onto the hope of guilt

And you breach brotherly love

Because you are parsimonious

Because you are ungenerous, unkind

You let me buy

You let me drive

You let me tend to you

You are very devoted to you

When you get

The way you get

Something rose on my side of the bed

Grabbed my arm, chest and head

And pulled me farther down

Than can be believed by even me

The problem with spinning tales

To suit your every need

Is that a line can be crossed

That screams, “Not probably!”

Deceiver,Self. Self, Deceiver.

Nice to meet you. You as well.

You mean neither of you could tell?

The full scope of evil consuming you?

That’s unlikely unless you insisted.

Something rose on my side of the bed.

Boil the whole pot

Until all moisture is gone

Then tell them nobody cried

Sell all the oils

Until there’s only black and white

Then tell them art has died

Clean out the attic

Except for your ghost

Then tell them a good goodbye

Rally the troops

Until their sad suicide

Then tell them they needn’t die

Grease fire the whole day ’round

Until the whole town hears alarm

Then tell them “don’t make a sound”

Boil the whole pot

I brood in the assemblage

Small black pebble

In the sack of rice

Can’t be used

Can’t be found

I brood in the assemblage

Autopilot flight

V-formation perfect

Can’t be shaken

Can’t be thawed

I brood in the assemblage

Cause I’m stuck

Who didn’t say

Can’t be treated so

This can’t be

Just hush

All my life

A jab

Why

Just hush

I dot to dot

Your pokes

Your spit

Moronic sloth

Depress yourself

But quit

Jabbing me

I suffer you

You should know

So a very thin thread

Keeps you around

So trust me

Hush

I sat there

for quite some time

Then it hit me

Who you are

I should care

Deeper

You’re just strange

Nothing like me

Like that matters

Chasm long

Over there

Life-like

I sat there

Tried to listen

But mostly

Just wanted

To stare

I guess

Just strange

Basic

Curiosity

I want nothing new

Yet complain nothing’s new

Ima Confused fool

The preacher and you

What has been in me

Is, I’m sure, a hurricane

Ur Caught in the middle

With a butterfly net

Trying to catch the rain

And You run hard

And You run long

And you hit full force

My moving wall

Of all my swiftly changing

Shifting waves

I’m sure it’s far too much

For you to take

Ima go now yeah

Ima go now

But is it hard to hear now

Because it’s hard to hear

Or is it hard to hear now

because you’re caught knowing

It’s oh so good to finally hear?