Awake, Alive

Awake, alive

Lit up like the fourth of july

This holding cell

This prison camp

Weighs heavy on the undertones

Of mistakes I regret

And chances I didn’t take

She is a demon, haunting the hallways

Whispering my transgressions

Slinging hateful rhetoric

About building walls and fucking them all to death

It wanes, my once cerebral assurance

That all is well, that all will resolve

Now, the sins of my forefathers

The blood on my hands

Starts to spread, to take hold of the inches

The millimeters now, separating truth from a lie

Death from  life

And I sit, unable to rise

Flooded by waves of uncertain self-loathing

Mornings spent waiting for the afternoon

Nights spent waiting for the morning

In hopes that some resolution will come

Waiting, hopefully not in vain

But most likely in vain

So, what the hell

Come lord Jesus come

Come Advent, the fires of hell

Come the New World, Westward expansion,

Space travel

The next frontier

The next beyond

That hope in something new

Until it comes

And lets me down again.