tired

mbrazfield (c) 2024

im tired of speaking into empty eyes
vacant hearts longing thighs
im exhausted bogged down in wasted time
hoping the music box lies from your crooked mouth would be divine intervention
im sorry for being
absolutely in horror of understood you
for this makes me an accomplice to your betrayal of who i was
not only was the writing on the walls the smoke signals in the sky
but the very Gabriel yelled into my sighs of despair giving me warning
tonight im tired more than i will ever be
the angels are chasing me
something is afoot
they leave me spray painted prophecy

porra, papai

mbrazfield (c) 2024

some days were sad gray uneventful
most days were brutal confusing painful
rarely did we need or want to smile
the looks the words the anger the hate the ridicule the shame the blame the abandonment
marching on in my head time middle fingered me on my knees crawling on the tarmac of the road to hell paved with no intention
Mutter turned her head like a queen in agreement
i could not comprehend
where do i make sense
papai misguided man
leading dragging his daughter
slaughter wood chipper of life
but i’m grown now
your dice followed you to where you went
my words hushed heaven will never live here anymore Gehenna had bought the country
healing compassion empathy sympathy turning of the cheeks fasting sacrificing keeping score patronizing scarification complete spirit annihilation
i was never meant to be your Issac