vocalized

this is misplaced
misdirected to the wrong face
the wrong direction

and i love and hate
all the words i create
the dramatic, the end-all
destroy the weak

these thoughts i create
fill the words on my place
full of misguided
misplaced hate

i can't describe
the tug-of-war in my mind
find a metaphor that's mine
made from salt stains and time

from the stanzas and
breaks
breaking solidarity
into capital lower-cases
punished for crimes
not committed

should i be alone
or should you save me
live through me
create your own habits:
habit-kissing
habit-fucking
full of floods of liquid chemicals

i want more, endless words
all cliche sincerity
to pull apart this dark constant
confusion envelops me

i guess i had to be shattered
to come dragging to you
scraping knees, tearing palms
dirt and blood mixing strong

with the salt stains
the sweat drops
the tears:
a paper plaster person.