I’m Tired (poem)

I’m Tired

I’m tired
of tears that leak
out of my internal faucet
missing its shut off valve

I’m tired
of the tortured
eyes I see staring
back in pity
every morning

running its judgement
over the mistakes I’ve made
in its mirrored image

I’m tired
of my loose change
not adding up
to collect
on my dreams of being free

I’m tired
of this fleshy cage rigged
of coarse bone and attitude

I’m just tired
of being me

State of Confusion

State of Confusion

missing the sexiness
of your breath
brushing the nape
of my neck

mixed at the bottom
of that broken glass
dripping red wine

I imagine
the hell fire I’m stuck
in every time I stare
at the barren wasteland
behind your eyes

hearing your voice
echoing the moans
of your lovers
as they push inside

pleasuring them
as if they’re me

true belief
isn’t coming to terms
with a past unjust
a beggar’s wish
for sustenance denied

my pride is left
to stand trial
without a judge or jury
to weigh in the facts

a hasty conviction
has me resting
in purgatory