Mornings Are Warmer Than Nights

mornings are warmer than nights
but nights are when i feel the warmest.

thoughts are your enemies, cleanse
them, wash them, laundry detergent’s
dripping down the mer ging walls.

they think they know what i need,
i don’t need anything but peace.
you can’t escape the warzone,
the white flag has been burned down.

pressing, guessing, there’s a
blade in my back that represents
my de ranged thoughts.

a breath and a linger, my spine is
no longer boneless,

a push and a stand, my guts will
save me from the gunshot,

it’s a long shot, i’m relentless,

breathless, defenceless,
i’m in the middle of my former self,

stronger, weaker,
i resent all i don’t understand.

it is not my problem,
my head is black and solemn.

truthful, useful, a screen,
a handful of matches
and a mouthful of gas oline.

one’s down, second’s down,
set my soul on fire;
sometimes staying alive feels like dying.

third’s down, fourth’s down,
it’s on the ground
and all that’s left is ashes.

start from the ruins.

a.p.