grown ass sovereign

tiny tyrant, vindictive and petty
useful in the most useless of ways
omniscient, omnipotent, powerless, dumb
toy compass points toward hateful malaise

closed off from everyone, open to all of it
help is the hunger to acquire, to accrue
never learned to do the dance of anything
all those skills are for someone else to do

cocked, sawed-off, double-barrel rage
all of us failed to know what was hidden
couldn’t guess the number of jelly beans
a boobytrapped jar labeled “forbidden”

you should’ve known, even though i don’t
get out of my head, give me some space
i’m so lonely, why don’t you love me?
but i always take time to put you in place

trapped in the mirror, the empty reflection
ripples don’t break the Narcissus spell
no wrinkles in the alarm clock’s sleep
a ladder of bones to a personal hell

an army of me, but none of those copies
are this good, although all are the same
and i know how you love my hurdles when
you say how much you hate this game

one pill or the other; it’s hardly the issue
this one is poison, no name on the jar
many will partake, thinking it medicine
but all will collapse, and none will get far

The music and poetry of Kevin Trent Boswell.jpg — Words and Sounds, Noises in the Dark

Author: Kevin Trent Boswell

Kevin Trent Boswell is a thing that once blinked briefly in and out of existence. It made noises and gestures while it lasted. The exact nature of its demise is unclear. Some sources say it collapsed beneath the weight of entropy and time. Other tertiary evidence suggests the possibility that it was destroyed by a predator, an accident, or perhaps even by itself. The truth of the matter is unknown. Luckily, no one cares. View all posts by Kevin Trent Boswell

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