Thought’s Preservation

Sick of myself
shards of the mosaic that
make up my mind slice
through thoughts – want to shatter
this shit in my cerebellum with a 9mm parabellum
hang them from the end of a rope
watch them swing like one-winged gnats
but to shoot the shit will send splinters flying selfishly
I want to kill the cancer, not the host
I’ve not endured this far, crafted this piece with
its poisoned parts, to let it win
under my skin,
the easy way out – the simple solution – the concrete
conclusion is at hand all of the time
but life will end one day, so I’m making may stand – twisting life’s balls in my hand
and when it gets sick of me it can finish me off
but until that time, I’ve got time by the throat
and will squeeze in all that I can

I'm alive! I'm alive!

I feel! I'm real!

I am!