On Christmas past

The Christmas lights on my tree

            twinkle, unnecessarily. 

Its all I have kept of tradition

You never put me right

Maybe you tried  

Maybe you loved me

But that’s not enough

Your love can’t cover up your abuse
I’m not a little child. But I’m still vulnerable 

I admit it.  I’m at accepting 

I can’t live for you
I’m not sorry.  

You wanted me to carry you

Like a pointless backpack of rocks

like a bucket of shit  

sloshing on top of my head

I was your surefooted mule

I took pride in how much I could carry

For you

I’ve put it down 

The bible, the apologizing, the pride,  shame,

And now – the fear and bucket of hate.

I’ve given up being the ass
Its no longer my surprise

I’m not passing it on or boxing it up

Or hiding it in the basement

Wrapped tight for later
You fucked up

You 

fucked 

up

you carry it

  

 

Freedom

Horse shit broken dick ear
Slimy pony fucker
I hope you are free
Tomorrow when the sun explodes
I hope you are alive and free of nets
Even though you said unpopular horrible stupid stuff
I hope you are never silenced
from spewing rancid words upon innocent ears and you thrive on to other bad jets of reason
I hope that in the last morning you are still here to speak of neural cells and puppy tails and cold blue waters with love so sickly sweet
It makes all cuss and swear at your idiot hands and subjective mind
I hope you are free to tell everyone there is no god or you are a bugger or the great jesus reincarnated
This is a path. It is dangerous and dirty. It is full of hopes and steps backwards and stupid fucks

and I hope you are on it