I sat

in lack of contemplation,

staring at the baker's dozen

by the window sill.

Fluffy donuts weren't enough to conceal

the gaping hole

dead center.

Somehow though

we always manage

to eat around it.

And bound the savage...

But I think I figured out

just how the windows

filter heat

from light

and distort my presence

to beautified silhouettes

and paintings

in your halls.

And how I was surprised

when panes opened

and shade died.

empty white begat

walls of fire.

And all the fucking screening

of my screamings


with shaded desires

to thuds on ground.

I climbed out the open frame

into fields

of a million grains

and threw myself in the dirt.

Yes, fucker, this is what I'm worth.

As the commuters watched me roll around

shoving solid chunks of earth in my mouth

and for once

not afraid

to bare my teeth.


black gums shining

to cerulean skies...

With the open window

distant behind me...

thank God

for these cries.

In essence

the process was streamlined

for all to see

the wonders

of what I could truly be.

But at one with myself

I created disparities

between what their eyes

had written for me..

as unearthed stones

began to get thrown about

when angrier hands found me -

tiny pebbles

embroidered themselves into my skin.

Baked in the sun --

it all hardened around me...

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