Pancreatic Care Package

Wrapped up
in insulin
wool blank and comatose
this pancreatic care package
still life

I been
dealing with this
over twenty five years
my organs aged and fermented
like wine

No cure
in sight, besides
vision is not so sharp
calluses on fingers, I am
hardened

Wrap me
up in million
butterfly kiss bandaids
tears are not measured in drops of
blood drawn

High, low
I react to
chemical reaction
roller coaster is not exact
science

Confused
incoherent
inconclusive at core
orange juice savior come stop these sweats
and shakes

Oh sweet
oblivion
come sweep me off my feet
my head becomes too heavy to
shoulder

Needle
tip of iceberg
only so much soul seeps
Through with this, hands thrown up to sky severed

But I
would rather live
with this than live without
don’t want to succumb to a lack
of ease

Feelings

Feeling spurned
at every turn
the candle burns
at no end

feeling shunned
brightness of sun
master of none
to no end

feelings feelings
feelings are the problem
sometimes I
don’t want to feel at all

routine routine
this is the problem
mostly I tire
of not feeling at all

Bleat

I got a box of painkillers
but I don’t have a prescription
my greatest achievements, dried ink signed in someone else’s name 

I shake my fist, but it’s just a phantom limb

I am a sheep & I’m bleating
I am a sheep & I’m bleating
I am a sheep & I’m bleating
I am asleep I’m bleeding

I know what I don’t want
but I don’t know what I do
I’ve good intentions
but my self-doubt creeps through

I’ve got a bible of dreams
but no time to read it
I’ve got a headful of thoughts
but they’re mostly one-liners

I am asleep I’m bleeding
I am asleep I’m bleeding
I am asleep I’m bleeding
I am a sheep & I’m bleating

I write my list, but it’s just a block of text 

I don’t want to shovel
your shit
I don’t want to pedal
your wares
I don’t want to bask
in your sun
I don’t want to
sulk in your shadow

Locked In

Eyes don’t match
my inner turmoil

all I needed was a seed
but I swallowed it
did not nurture it

chill down my spine
I want that feeling
all of the time

gooseflesh & hair raised
in the best of ways

I can channel it
only for so long

the embers must go cold

I can control it
only for so long

the fire must go out

my children’s embrace
I wish I could stay
locked in forever

we never stop
being children
finding our way

Absence of Routine

Why does the absence
of routine make us sad?
when we should be
embracing what’s to come,
we should be embracing
the absence of routine.
instead I’m fighting back tears
as I’m retracing steps
from a thousand blind walks.
as I’m moving forward in time.
goddammit, fuck routine.
why am I not embracing its absence?