In a moment of anger,
a wild wrangler
bursting out of that cage
filled with seething rage
having to go through
all these tedious routines
always playing some part
as it's expected of me

Grabbed a pair of scissors
a whirlwind of blond locks
resides on the ground,
like some surreal river
drowning in the rhythm of life
The ebb and flow
causing an utter  lack of control
contained by a skeletal frame
blood, mucus and skin
waiting for a siren's call
not feeling quite right at all

Twisting these words of reason
always out to please them
in a one way dance
of wayward chance
something is growing
out of season

Never feeling a need
to fill anything
or to finish what was started,
when it's predestined to become fodder

What does it matter
if the glass is half empty or full?
a person can drown
in a teaspoon of water
or be clichéd to death
by an uninspired daughter

Too many implications
never a direct approach
going the route of humiliation
until they swallow these words and choke

Read between the lines
yes, it's about supposed 'family'
but this one imploded
in late 2004,
sick and tired of trying
their pathetic excuses at prying
crawling out of the woodwork
spreading misleading information
when their own glass houses
are fractured beyond repair
and I'm supposed to bend over backwards
acting as if I honestly care?

mathiasthom
written 10/16/10