Perhaps I don’t belong anywhere.

At times I feel as though all that I do

is but a waste of someone

else’s time and that the friendship

I offer is but seen as rusting decay.

 

To take each heart I’ve broken

and see it corrode in the flesh of my palms,

to see it perish under the scrutiny

of insane composition and to share that

wild word with a world that doesn’t care

is to punish and pound my head

into the mud and dirt and yet my