Con/f-you/sion

lies 
      in my mind like a mental contusion
an eluding protrusion; 
	or a  protruding illusion
no simple solution to these daily delusions…
these daily dilemmas that never leave me alone
lashing and clashing at me and my lyrical lobes
such a cynical tone in such a typical poem - 
another love poem from just another poet alone…
	no sexual jokes?…fine
“hey baby, what’s yo’ sign?”

	STOP!

in the name of Love? 
	fuck 
	that 
	shit
all your many temptations elicit elated sensations,
	leaving me trapped in endless conversations
		alone
erasin’ my mind, replacin’ my thoughts
got me retracin’ my paces to the path that I sought 
				for, fought 
		for, and at times I bought for 
				you, 
			me,
		us.
makin’ my way back ‘til i reach a break in my mood
	a break in the goods
I finally see…
two roads diverged in 
			my mellowed woods…
…which way to go…
…which road to choose…
…fuck it…where’s my axe?  I’ll
	blaze…	my own trail
	pave… 	my own path..
	make…	my own
way. today
go. tomorrow
return concerned 
about:
- the roads not taken
- paths mistaken
- images forged and fakin’d 
- portraits snapped and not painted…

…they say that…
a picture paints a thousand words?
	well shit…
my words can create a thousand pictures 
depictin’ my life as
	a painter, an artist…
or just a simple poet
	depressing…expressing the
		depths…extents of his soul yet
				to be known,
still yearning to travel these paths all alone, 
	still learning to travel the paths of his own…

It’s true-
	there are passengers, and yes…there are drivers
		on this road of life, 
but also those damn bikers, hitchhikers
	constructors…destructors…
accidents, 
	and purposes, 
		and 
the cliché burdens and strife
remain
	just simple words in the life,
		roadways in the life,
just another day in the life
of me.

here’s my fuckin’ poem
	about Love.