Writings - Poetry - 2006

Sat in for the ride
Crashed the brink, right on the inside
Fell to the force
But kept on running
As though those fields kept on burning
Felt the flame on my face, from blood returning

So dizzy

Washed my hands with all that hate
Like lotion cream was a hand grenade

Sat in for the ride
Couldn't complain until the spectators died
And they moved off course
As I kept on running
Once the dogs set out for hunting
Smelling the blood in my head returning

So dizzy

Part ways and separate
The incongruent magistrates
With to many voices they speculate
I can wash my hands in all that hate

I'm getting lightheaded again
Found myself another predicament

Sat in for the ride
Skinned my knees and wanted to cry
As if tears made reason
And I felt like running
Running down the lying governing
To eviscerate this anger pooling
Before it contaminates the blood retuning

So dizzy
I feel like sleeping
I can't let the anxious ire defeat me

So dizzy
I wash my hands of all of this
But I see the water is so red.