My life is a funeral dying in life, living in death remains not yet to be sold, beginning to old, to many deaths to many ways to call it home, the remains to be left with all this alienation building from all things, starting over and over until I find myself looking at the inevitability of mortality, dealing with pain living in vain, gut wrenching sadness washes through this empty heart filled with grief of ones hope, caring and staring waiting and crying building and dying, to do what rise? no fall and fall again till nothing has taken me whole taken my soul, writhing at night trying to defeat the sunlight, faded lines trading rhymes defeated destroyed unknown to all be known to one reality is a manifestation of thought, a memory of distortion a debate that’s killing likened to feel that if I fold will I live to fulfil my role, collapsing statements of family abuse turmoil that hides away like a monster in a cave to take to the grave nothing matters to live without telling people, to stay without killing people to win without losing people to forgive is to lie to take is to die to end is to start I am a broken heart.