"Thread Between Shears"
I am not yet.
I've no regrets
but I need substantiated purpose.
The surface it seems
Is riddled with seams
Yet to be sewn together.
Strewn together like lei
Placed on the broad shoulders of today.
I will but I'm not ready.
Solid rock but not steady
Enough to serve as foundation
To a plantation so stern
For those more concerned
With the porch than the interior.
In perspective I am labored.
In directive I am angered;
Smattering of soulless snide.
I glide till I fall; colliding with walls
Like there's nothing to see.
Consumed by the sea,
I float amid danger.
No semblance of anchor
To ground my leads.
Less painful to bleed
Than struggling to breathe;
But that's what you don't read.
I flail in the wind:
Lifeless leaves swept in autumn.
I break and I bend:
Brittle branches before them.
Can't shout when hollowed out.
No one hears the whispers.
Daybreak robs me of refuge
As if one would enlist her.
The moonlight her sister.
She delights in games
That isolate dire straits
and yield audience to shame;
But I know nothing of shame.
I am merely the frame.
Seldom reinforced shell
That must cope with the hell
Of substance forlorn.
Was once tugged; nearly torn
Between sirens that saw potential
But would not be instrumental
in what would be derived.
I have survived in simplicity;
Implicitly dissecting "complexity"
As if to offer therapy
to those who chose to spare me;
Slighting without first notice
Unconcerned with if I'll notice
As the rapture starts to fade;
Taking form as endless shade.
I am amorphous as well.
My means thrive undefined.
Refined I will not revel.
First place or last level.
As indifferent as the stray
breathes you take before you pray.
I am not okay.
There's nothing wrong with me.
Nothing more to see;
Should you be so endearing to me.
No set of sympathy requested.
I am all but well rested
in the bastion of the uncertain.
I stand before you as curtains:
Differential in displacement.
No candor. No cadence.
I am harmed by uniform.
I am water in spite of order:
Edges singed and steamed;
Evaporating in your dreams
Until what floats near your face
Barely even warrants chase.
Your grace wreaks of pity.
Sullen is the stench of your "contrition."
Conditioned to be on call
For every instance should I fall.
Even learned how to bawl in tears.
I strain to recall the years
Where you clung to authenticity.
The rungs were never slippery;
Yet you descend before me.
You defend and contend.
You ignore me. I am boring
And you are no more than we.
Incomplete with pride so concrete;
Seeking conquer in your wars
But your eyes revere the stars
While your subjects incur scars.
Severed heads in plains you tread
Before returning to your bed.
I am but a limb lopped off
To reveal organs once deemed vital.
All may prod and trifle
And I'll barely feel a thing
Because I am barely here.
So shallow and sheer
That lesser silhouettes are acknowledged.
Tarnish without polish.
Cracks and creases abound
But no creaking sound
warning you to walk around.
I must have purpose to be nervous
and I've never been so brave.
Barely knave behind my loyalty.
No true slave or heir to royalty.
Unfinished I remain.
Wash away the stain
And the film will line your finger
If you let me linger.
So proceed as you've been trained
And employ the fawn you've feigned.
Hide the notions behind names
While true motives flee your brain
And it won't matter all the same.
Some things we don't get
And I could find room for regret;
But I lack form. I will not set.
I am not done.
I am not yet.
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
"[High Speed]{Going Nowhere}"
Dial up the need
like cows grazing for seed.
They won't wait for the grass.
They love chasing the ass
So it never gets tender
And it clings to both genders.
When the psyche is dismembered,
No one reaches for the cleanser.
Poor decisions are the lender;
So you can't return to sender
When it's bred in house
And you are the only member.
You're moving fast, ma'am.
So prude and truculent.
Juicy peach so succulent
but bitter in aftertaste.
Charge it to the chase.
You chase away the chaste
And avoid the piece of glass
That would dare display your past
While you judge the lower class.
Your brief meetings and disclosures
cite that you're so far from closure.
You're on the search for peace;
But won't allow it to be over.
Slow down a little, ma'am.
None of it is kosher.
You're not even sober;
But you just might be alone
And I'm still on the phone.
A voice as bittersweet
as the one that used to greet
Or say things to reach my peak
That we often kept discreet.
Was surprised you'd even speak.
Not surprised at how it ended.
Haven't talked in months and weeks.
No wonder you were so offended.
Pace yourself some, now.
Since I'm no longer on,
I don't feel the need to get back on.
Feelings aren't something to snack on.
You have nothing to keep a track on.
No forums to place wise cracks on,
No material for you to snap on,
No stint of witty retort,
no friends to render observation reports,
No trace to supplement your plans.
The lines in the sand
Have been replaced by cement.
I believe it's fairly decent.
Take a breather, miss.
I'll admit. I reminisce.
I won't lie. I have my days.
Where I wonder about the way
We just threw it all away.
Most of it fashioned for strays.
None of it fancied by owners.
Even pets taste the ammonia.
Perfumed poison laced with passion
Misplaced in deliberate fashion
By one privy to distractions
That led to unruly actions
Resulting in a staunch detraction.
But hey, it's cool. Minor infractions.
We've incurred new interaction
and laid fresh root to current factions.
Just try your best to avoid traction.
You're damaged right now.
There's nothing left to recycle
Yet you tend to trod and trifle;
Even reaching for the rifle
But you'll never pull the trigger.
You're already an exposed figure:
Full bodied spirit laced with bitters.
The past like a cast
Wrapped tightly around your waist.
You tug to feign distress
But cease when it starts to chafe.
You sidestep and strafe.
You spin and swerve
As if it gets on your nerves
But you welcome what you deserve.
Ma'am.………
Ma'am…
Miss.
Hey…………
Take a break.
You don't have to shake
And give yourself the chills.
Your heart clings to these thrills
Like an addict with a fistful of pills
and you never wait for the water.
You're so close to overkill.
I believe you've had your fill.
Be still.
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
"Stale Donuts"
Spent mornings wondering why I'm awake.
Is it all a fake?
Is this life a fluke?
Am I bound for truth
Or will I uncover a lie?
Still asking why
and it's such a beautiful day.
Nowhere to get away.
She's still asleep;
Likely floating on a cloud
And I'm thinking too loud.
She tells me that she's proud;
But how much of it is feigned?
The greater question, though:
Am I really this vain?
Do I need belly rubs to handle pain?
Is this the extent of my ego?
Parents show me off incessantly:
"Look at how he grows."
Maybe the process is too slow.
Maybe I'm impatient.
Never felt so latent.
This stagnant state so filthy.
These random thoughts might kill me.
Regardless of whatever
Or today's rainy weather,
It's still just me
And I have yet to see
Why I can't lay next to her
Instead of going out to face the world.
She's my songbird of solace.
My conduit of comfort and peace
And yet there are still times
When I feel like love is leased.
The less one expects,
The harder it is to express.
If I fail to impress,
I fear the impending stress
Of a bogged down state.
I'm going to be late.
The sun is blinding in it's beckon.
Bed sheets barely stifle it's detection
As if it's focused in my direction.
I've no construed collection
Of thoughts to offer her.
She rolls over to face me:
"Ready for work, baby?"
I'd love to just shout "SAVE ME!"
But I just respond "Maybe."
She notes how I've looked lately
And inquires accordingly.
I tell her "I've just been lazy;
But it's a new day. No worries."
Toothbrush in the shower.
Loose change on the dresser.
Work shoes with worn leather.
One long kiss with a smile.
She'll likely lay awhile
Since it's her off day.
I guess I'm on my way………… †EVL
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
"My Scarlet Harlot"
Spiritual schemes in unfamiliar themes.
Critical cream hits the skin before the gleam.
Skin pale in hue.
Pure hell in view;
But I see no evil.
Eyes full of distortion
in lieu of your generous portions.
I shout towards the sky.
Thought you were a blessing from on high.
Never thought I'd have to sigh.
Time surely flies.
I spent most of it trying to float.
Wet dreams are the means
For the words I swore I wrote.
Could've sworn better.
Thought that I would never.
You collect the love letters.
Mere notches in your belt.
You hate the holistic;
But apply it to yourself.
No doubt you love yourself.
Keen on selective preservation.
No concern for weather
Or the nature of your ledger.
Fresh blood stains
mix well with pouring rain.
Victims get the hose again.
There's no lotion for the skin.
There's nothing to win
When our insatiable lust
Meets your unwavering hunger.
Rough sex and torn flesh.
Private rooms become tombs
That all eventually escape
Before returning in your twisted glory.
We are the statutory:
Souls full of direction
That chose to toss the map
for one avid in detection
Sitting firm upon our laps.
Passed around without a sound.
We acknowledge the shame
but love to play the game
As long as no one is around.
Profound how we seek crowns
For those who "Ho around."
We frown if we go around town
and find nothing to pound.
A few rounds with round brown
Or light skin. Or buttered tan.
Or a caress from the darker hue.
You are truly pale in hue.
Nearly see through;
But we see no evil.
Heartless witch resembles hell's angel;
But so many are willing and able.
Obtuse expectations crushed by a cute angle.
The harlot in the H2 with the sunroof view.
Eyes to the sky with the tears you will cry
As you laugh at God between each sigh.
Another heart ripped fresh from lustful flesh.
Conquest not reserved for the contrite.
No remorse in the middle of the night.
The break of day will see you steal away.
Laden with impurity. Soaking in your sins
Like swine in salty brine.
You should be reviled. You're as bitter as bile;
But forbidden fruit has deceptive sugar.
I have arrived; knowing I'd soon realize.
Call me the antithesis of prodigal.
The one victim that returned
With much more to earn
Than another night of brief desire.
You with the fiery eyes and thick thighs.
Hair cherry red and longer than you said.
Crimson lips glossy red that invite souls to bed.
Names dangle from your calves
to just right above your ankle.
Your collection is extensive.
Their donation so expensive.
I once stood in need of quench
In the presence of a wench
That would alter her forms
To conceal what intends to harm.
Dissolute in your lust driven swarm.
Warm in your offering contingent upon desire.
Appealing to the ire of the one who got away
Or one who wipes away words we want to say.
You would rearrange your pores
To resemble the girl next door
Or the one who deserved more
That was left washed upon shore.
You are our wildest dreams
and our heart's true desire.
Too bold to hang behind the scenes.
You'd prefer we see the fire.
You are the tragedy of fantasy.
Calamity with a deep throat
and a bevy of back shots;
But I've studied the plot.
Far too hot to blow your cool.
There is limit to your rule.
The carpenter is still a tool
And you will fall through your foundation.
You enslave whole nations.
Aware of your wiles
But afraid to resist your trials
My life comprised in miles
And I've come back to strip you naked.
Your looking glass riddled with names
Is now your mirror filled with shame.
Play your twisted game!
Peel away those perfect pores.
Reveal blemishes and sores.
Calloused are your knees.
Lips riddled with disease.
Blow yourself a kiss.
Enchant yourself until you're fed
Then indulge in countless beds
Until you wish you were dead.
You own nobody.
You belong to everybody.
Everyone.
Every son of a mother.
Every sister's brother
That you once smothered;
Sapping life from them for fun
Before hiding from the sun.
Laugh at he who sits high
And he will smile back.
Those fiery eyes despise the sky
And everyone knows why…………P†F
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
