Demon Child

Demon Child

if I was
a religious man
I’d say I was the spawn
of Satan
a demon child placed
in dwellings to create chaos
to kill hearts
with angered kindness

if I washed
in holy water
would I screech
from the sacred burn
of the just throwing
stones to knock out
my sins

mutilated flesh picked
apart by the vultures
of the night life I partake
popping pills waiting for
the next vodka shot

as the tears fall
what goes up my nose
loosens the thoughts
I can’t shake with a dance move

then I think of her as I crash
the fruit of my loneliness
I’m ridding my sins
with a blade and  a flame
in 3 hours I’m at it again

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Weak Moments #1

Weak Moments #1

at times

when the overcast
of polluted skies become
too much to bear
I reach for you

breathing in Chicago’s smog
clouding my judgment
I believe I need you

functioning solely
on the day to day pouring
rains that flood
Stoney Island’s viaducts
I cry for you

when the Sunshine
of my life is missing
dawn seems to be overlooked
a sunset too
not casting it’s normal red/orange hues
my mind’s dark as midnight
as my flesh bleeds for you

due to my sins
I deserve to be punished
life whips me bare
my clothes fallen

outstretched in this darkness chained to the stock
awaiting my execution

for deeds you can’t forgive