I am burning..

I am burning,
this perfect anger channeled through the open window.
I kept my mouth shut
and prayed that the emotion
would sweep over me and leave,
and I could sit in peace,
ten seconds on the clock and counting.

You kept to yourself
and I found that I had
to take care of myself,
because when the drinks are empty,
and when the money’s all gone,
I am alone and sober,
a place I do not want to be.
Who does?

Who ends up at the rainbow's end anyway?
Just the fan clubs and the spiders
that seem to never have hard questions to answer,
no troubles or stories of woe,
lucky you.
This boy's "personal" opinions dictated by some Lion in the sky,
some robe on a throne,

some saint in the mortuary,
that is lying to me-
Must be nice not to think or care.

The mixed beats
that thump the back of my spine,
on hot nights,
circuits of my brain
wrung out like dirty water
from your clean kitchen towels.
I kept myself from mouthing words,
the maze to my mind
was closed for renovations.

The pain that can only be understood
in silence,
I found my vocal chords,
twisted like scissors,
an orchestra plays in the barnyard,
messy murders and sexy suicides aside (supposedly).

I was pushed out of the basement early,
when I was, as of yet, unprepared.
You handed me such “vital” aids:
string, a bar of soap, shiny flint.
While you sleep in the comfort of friends and family,
I will be out in the night,
fighting tigers with string,
defending myself from apathy and depression,
somehow, with soap.
And I will be seen,
in the early morning hours,
striking flint to the steel machine,
sparking the sun to action every morning.