A Sickening Cycle

Summer heat rises, the fire runs out, someone calls a name.
Nothing undoes it, under a knife...may all your dreams be burned.
Causation, construction, correction and a call;
Remodel repentance, run away from aches,
You fear and feel you've failed.

Nervous habit, write a poem; express in poor conditions.
Half-mad, half-dead, ready to run again.
It never ends, it only begins, time and time again.
Yet you're urged to craft conclusions
By a voice inside your veins...

When your feet hit the floor,
They itch to be elsewhere.
Get out of the garden,
Deal with the desert,
Just jump from the roof and run...

The silence surrenders
To something unheard, echoing loudly,
Dead before it's born. You scrape the skin from off the sky,
You need to know what's underneath. And though you think that's all you were,
You're unsettled enough to scan the scars.

Trailed by trauma,
Another abstraction. All the lies unfold,
Replaced in the roiling rain. Something new becomes something old,
A sickening cycle, sore in the soul, but when the tide lies on the shoals,
The water waits a while...