I AM

I am your renegade, the lingering stump of thought

Bearing burden seeds to your heart’s garden:

I am the remains of a stormy drought

Sweeping through your brazen nerves, hidden

I am the cold challenge spearing and searing,

Slinging with tacit tact, your sold emotions.

I am your lost breath swaying and sneering

At your want for my coveted touch

I am the black star you cannot own its existence

Who, for all my gain you swoon—a croon, my croon

I am to whom you come with deep intent

To rend your thoughts on my neo-s alter

I am with the swift tongue

I sway your balance and craft your slump

I wring white liquid to soothe you all day long

Pumping your yolk confused and plastered

I am the thing around your neck

You slave to preserve from your rectum

I am the silent trouble on the deck

Tying the mast to its stiff, sizzling your sail

I am the one you’re lost to see

The one with the frying card

The one you hate to see or be

Who splay your gold at the swine

I am the ore rejecting to fill the cast

I am poured in by society

My destiny I choose to chart
Opting solely to forge my own mold

I am the strange stray emotion

Luring you to a stoned age

My will defiles the sages’ notion

And betrays your fate with a drawn kiss

I am. I am.