Somewhere in this existence a martyr is faking
the excitement and clinging onto his last breath
of hollow royalty, bleeding Pisces sarcasm,
held under dirt by angst-ridden hands
Somewhere we are making love
in beautiful waves
that connect in perfect art,
but cannot predict the tide
Somewhere Hitler is feeding his mouth
the barrel of a gun, proud of the idea
that we have all been implanted
with his wisdom
Somewhere I am losing you
and wanting you back in large doses,
and I fear this is my own private hell -
my everywhere
Somewhere I am in love
with the concept and not just desperate
for intimacy -
you shield thoughts of infidelity
by attempting to convince yourself
that specifics matter
Somewhere the walls are coming down
and chaos is a virtue that we cannot comprehend,
although the light at the end of the tunnel
is merely decoration
Somewhere Jesus is crucified
in ways we cannot truly relate to,
yet we compare ourselves and claim to be followers,
but I know you'd throw the first stones -
like high school food chains
Somewhere I am writing my thoughts out
and forming patterns called poetry -
I dine on colors.
I am dead in clouded dreams.
I fall in cycles.
Somewhere you are reading this poem.
