The first about a lonely homeless man who lost his wife and walked to the edge of a bridge to kill himself, a second poem about a quiet boy with a monster inside him in a group of friends, all aspiring gang members, who comes across this homeless man about to kill himself. The quiet boy tells the homeless man to jump, and he does. Here’s the last of the three poems, influenced by la dispute’s album called Wildlife, with a quote off one of their songs called A Poem.

wildlife

I lock my doors at night.

do you?

Do you feel the need to protect yourself
from wildlife?
Or something else?

Is it fear of the unknown?
what could turn this handle slowly?
Could it be the very same thing
that was made in an image holy?

What fear do you know? What scars can you show?
Do you even know what flows in YOUR veins,
or through your heart below?

What natural part of human nature can go unnoticed every day?
What darkness lies in every heart hidden behind clothed charade?

When every passerby that passes by only sees a shell
does it reflect on the person viewing? or is it simply fear of a hell?

A hell they didn’t know, a man’s dark and lonely place.
Devoid of love or a life worth living, finding only solace in hate.

And when he’s finally noticed he’s at the edge, teetering on life or death

when he only needs a single push, the devil told him yes.

“And the worst of the wildlife wears clothes and can pray
and the worry, the wonder,
For three meals a day.
Only death unimpeded, not slowing its pace,
Brings that petty, old worry and wonder away.”

i am stuck
i am stuck with this pain in my gut
morose am i, with this pain i am stuck
i’m sick to my stomach and stitches pinch shut
my only foothold, this pain from my gut
and it hurts and these nerves all expire and serve out a dish of warm bliss, though withholding its words and i can’t help but think that this sting will not end no this blood that i shed won’t expire and mend
i am scared
i am scared
i am scarred i am scared
i don’t know what will happen
i am tired and scared

I want him to say something sad, along the lines of “So there was Jon, unlocking his apartment door alone. Again.”
Something like that.

My apartment door swings wide amidst the flood of flesh and blood through the tide of mangled feelings; my footsteps bear no partners love.
Walking hand in hand my fingers grip and compliment each other; try to find some peace of mind with my only choice: self comfort.
It’s complacency i lack, or just the thought of it. at best, you’d think i’d have them in my arms or even better yet under covers black.

Strength in my bones put the words in my head.
I’ll live by these words. I know I’m strong.

and tomorrow
we can paint the gray skies away.
for tomorrow,
my dear, is another day.