i try to maintain an elevated chin
stay on speaking terms with the clouds
ingest at least an ounce of beauty every day
but damn if the darkness don't drop
like a spider
flood me with its toxins
wrap me in apathy
i watch the surface rise as my emotions flatten
and the music needs to be louder
has to be harder
to reach my drowning heart
enough Anthrax and i can survive an outbreak
enough Death in my system and the reaper will walk
it is a kind of beauty this howling gutcheck of a playlist
it lives on basement dank and starves
its own dreams just to make them stronger
it wears its bones on the outside
tap the volume and shackle my nerves
to a savage calm
in the car in the cubicle
wherever i carry myself through the world
with a fist only i recognize as clenched
