The fire tears me up like a bout of heartburn that will not be distinguished, an ache that lingers and refuses to be relinquished, gnawing at the edges of everything I attempt. I’ve been pushing the envelope for far too long, it’s left me hellbent to surprise those who are wrong, listen to me as I sing my song. I try to steady my hands, forcing calm into a body that refuses to cooperate. From my mountain I tolerate. A toast to freedom I boast. It feels slippery and half a world away, leave in confusion and dismay, leaving my ego shattered and at bay. Elusive as a mirage on the horizon. Watch the sun as it’s rising. Mass production, a new beginning, this fragile body is slowly thinning. Just concentrate and start from the beginning. Under the weight of endless days and routines that blur into one another. Thank you dear brother. I wouldn’t have another. The damn morning commute to a job that kills me leaves me hollowed out, drained of reflection and contemplation; it strips me bare like a disguisable yet transparent burden of mass surveillance that watches over me without mercy. Today I start afresh, I promise, even as dwindling health and romantic debate cloud my resolve and kill this snake. Mother Nature remains an ever-present reminder of how temporary our carefully constructed, often deluded existence truly is, and I find I cannot ignore that unmeasurable truth that humbles me. Scars me. Some tasks are are best left alone. Off to work I moan. Antacids are no longer a viable option for this unmedicated schizophrenic who is self a self diagnosed manic; A calcium overdose landed me in the ICU and nearly robbed me of the life I thought I had earned. My family was so concerned. Revealing how precarious everything really is. It was hit and miss. I could not stand without toppling over in searing pain and to who’s gain? I try to refrain. Gripped by a new and unnerving sense of resistance and profound fragility that colors every premotion with a blue persistence. You don’t deserve my uninterrupted devotion or screw with my one emotion. Help me help myself to be myself, I plead silently into the wind, a small, desperate prayer. I wasn’t born to be a bricklayer. The unfair disadvantages keep correcting my undesirable dark side, I need you to abide. My heart stumbles, skips, or misses a beat, and fear tightens its grasp with every falter, each tremor echoing the uncertainty ahead. Dave, you made your bed. Sit and help me bake break, we are all balancing on the same thread. I have been pushed into a corner and still I fail to stand up for myself. I’m sold and off the shelf. I am constructed from sticks and stones, cold, overworked bones that ache for more than empty thrones. Words, not action, Dave! This world feels as if it was made only for the brave, and choices are merciless in their narrowing phase. We said goodbye and hugged; this damn liquid poison has ruined yet another empty relationship. Too bad for the ones I’ve left behind, I never asked you to read my entire mind, I’m too afraid of what you may find. Only to share a sweet prerequisite for human kind. I deserve a break from this one-sided master tape. My love is selfish and tumbles into the laps of those I barely have time to appreciate or rate. Mister doctor man, please increase my meds before I evaporate entirely and find some servant to allocate. My mental state has just taken a beating and has left me suspicious of the very hands that feed me. Trust issues proliferate; it all circles back to me to relegate. My creativity feels redundant, sidelined by pain and doubt, aching for a small respite or a clear signal that things might, slowly, start to shift.