Knock (the invite request)

write please read and enjoy

I don't belong here

so what am I doing?

Sitting before you, feeling the knots in my back

quivering fingers, lingering over letters

sending each with high hopes and precision

arrows shot in the dark;

hoping to poke holes and see light

this is all that I offer, bowstrings crescendo

shooting stars that fizzle out in the night

harsh on the harpsichord, striking forth with harsh accord

I feel the rise in my chest, chimney smoke fills my breast because I write

I wander the sky, a beggar and traveler

as I crawl through the gutter, a singer and teller

were I not scratching at the outside of this gate

you'd find me chasing the wild hairs to somewhere else

my home is not defined, my roam is a joy of mine

I run around with no aim, nothing to claim

no plan or agenda, no reputation to my name

when I see the hideous terror that mankind can commit

paired with the beauty, I revel in the chaos that does sum it

shriveling my skin, frozen to the bone, never not alone

the world is all a mountain we have yet to near the summit

so I celebrate the suffocating, loss of sense as high as we are

because it only means the bottom has fallen out, we've come so far

and I inhale that feeling to leap with a shallow breath

knowing all of this is all this is, I will write even when I am nothing left.

Author's Note

free form
not serious