Spectral heckle I fail to elude,
ravings of apathy I rain upon guilt.
Amenities offered, not of shelter nor food
shift me to skip meals under roofs.
I find it hard to see and be
for it corrupts my eyes to be, yet see.
Last resorts were a sea of debris
for all I wished for was to not be.
The strings to control my swinging limbs
are breaking down to their core.
I refuse to break my lisp as
mind avenges body tenfold.
Skip a meal then grab a razor,
your bleeding wrist is now a geyser.
It started out to let out steam but
boiling blood dances to famine.
Let’s dance in the halls for entertainment!
Adulation of and by the free.
“Oh no, Sir. I refuse to accept payment!”
“I don’t do this for money.”
Free of charge,
a round of applause.
Numb; At large;
Count my sins,
count my steps.
I’ve close to none.
How’s that for protest?
How’s that for normal?
How’s my art grotesque?
I do it for free.
I bleed to pass.