fight

Flourecent light pours into the patient's pupils and reflects off the spotless white tile. blue and green pant legs speak of authority and gravity. the young man brushes his brown hair from his peircing, silver-blue eyes. he tightens his mask and covers his skin with latex. with scalpel in one hand and anesthetic in the other he prepares to enter the tense and quiet room.
Intricacy and delicacy dominate his work. extreme attention to the minute details have made his steady hands the most trusted. the ornateness of his work makes his young heart feel alive. steel and blood meet as the artist perfects his masterpeice. in a matter of seeminlgy no time at all, he signals for the clamp and puts the final touches on his patient.
Glistening, cold beads of sweat spill down his brow. he slowly exits the room and wipes his head in triumph. his diligent hands wear no lines of defeat. fingers move to peel the blood-stained plastic from his hands. young heart slows, almost to a stop, as he looks at the clock and realizes that his work here is done for now. slowly and hesitantly he opens the door and walks out into the still and mild night.
Hands grasping coat, his young eyes notice the palm trees on the beach swaying in the gentle, warm breeze. no signs of life on the city streets, with the exception of the young night commuter. all the lights dimmed hours ago, but his legs are accustomed to this travel and his eyes are accumstomed to the light of street lamps. entering the hall, he searches his pockets for his key and closes his door behind himself, as if by accident. empty picture frames line the walls of his desolate, one-room appartment. dust lies heavy on his bed as he has found a dearer friend in the couch. in this silent and solitary room every single fear comes true.
Thoughts shift to the wretched machine that stares at him from afar. his worst enemy and most hated appliance beckons him to draw near. everything within tells him not to give in but in a matter of seconds his legs pull him closer. he tries all he can to escape but the door moves further away with every step. shutting his eyes, he holds his breath as he expects to see the number that haunts all his dreams. the same number that he always saw when the machine called to him, the same number of patients who had died in his care, the same number of true friends he had, and the same number of risks he had taken in his calculated and safe life. fingers slowly uncover his fearful eyes and he gazes in astonishment at the number 1. he falls to his knees and tears quickly fall into a puddle on the hardwood floor. a hand was stretching out, contact was made to prove that someone cared. to prove that he was not alone.

empty houses under investigation

i am the one who can turn snow red with blood. i am the one who can snatch defeat out of Victory's jaws. i am the one who dreams in nightmares. i am the one who can turn a rose into ash. capillaries surge with life. as blood rushes from heart to veins. but once knife finds jugular that once good system is the very death of me. i am the only one that can manage to find death in life. i am the one who turns flowing water to dust. i am the one who finds sympathy in the shadow. with my every movement i turn shallows to depths. i could take the light out to a dark world. but i will stay here and outshine every other light. all this light is blinding me. i am the one who puts poison in the ground water. i am the demolitionist. i am my murderer. turning truth into deceit. my death awoke the same time that i did.

untitled(obviously)

as the petals fall from the flowers i am reminded. remembering everything that i once stood and fought for. now i lie down and embrace the gutter. all my life meant lays at my feet in ruins. if this is the truth, then why is my life a lie? if these are the only words that matter, why can't i say them? i kneel in the shadow of Your redemption. this time i will settle for silence or cheap phrases bought by tongues. i deny the only one who truly loves me with every breath. my purpose. grey eats at my soul. anything and everything goes as far as i'm concerned.

islands and wooden skyscrapers

my heart turns to ghost. don't come near me! it's nothing personal, i just dont think i can take it. let me build these walls. so i won't have to feel hurt. pain cannot breach this wall. concaine thoughts take me away. but isolation come crawling back. a reminder of the lonliness. breathe truth back into these mechanic eyes. save me before my heart disappears. i long for Your touch before i fade into the road. another stray line that missed its mark.

parallel lines intersecting at a point slightly above my heart

my soul was not built to work like this. so haphazard and apathetic. eyes tell all hidden inside. recycled to the very end. half-hearted offerings have left me feeling so exhausted. every ounce of passion has fallen victim to this silence. overcommitment has left me stranded and searching for the exit sign. your compliments keep me afloat. those words become the obsession of my heart. words overcome truth and blind my eyes. open my eyes. i need your discernment

miss pacman vs. duck hunt(round one)

there it sits at a distance, so old and worn. telling of a long, taxing road. it catches my eye. and for one second i forget why i try so hard to cover such true beauty with this hallow case. doorbell rings. quick, exit stage left before the curtain falls on our act. reach for the whitest tablecloth in the closet. next grab the pretty plastic plants. oh what a beautiful display! enter guests with teeth like snakes. we tread water as i yearn for venom to rush through the veins in my neck. what a lovely lawn! what a lovely house! what a lovely wife! what a lovely white tablecloth! oh its nothing. change subject as tablecloth covers and suffocates poor table. goodnight, goodnight. adieu, adieu. look forward to next strangling. that was a close one. i had to choke down my words. white tablecloth stained red. oh table how many times will i cover you with such a phony, unworthy disguise? dear table without you i would starve. you deserve so much more, yet you sit quietly, and think no less of me. oh dear table how much longer will i sit around you without showing your face. how can i be ashamed of such simplicity? let's burn away that tablecloth(that so easily entangles).