Stable

I refuse to be amused, I refuse to be confused,

As I beat myself up even though I refuse to be

Abused.

If I leave it all behind me could I bribe you to remind

Me,

Lost delicately in my ways, could I persuade to come and find

Me.

I've fallen behind with your fiction, allow me to skip to the

Facts,

I'm not as concrete as I thought, how did I slip through the

Cracks.

Floating on, I've reached an all time low to spite

The ceiling,

Can I lean against these ropes till I find a way to fight

This feeling?

The worse pain you dealt, was the best pain I felt,

The more notches, the more loops, so how do I arrange my

Belt?

Training against a racy past in anticipation that it may

Run slow,

"Sweating bullets" has become natural for the ones participating in

The gun show.

Stir the echoes of a moral rumpus around the "Ins and the Outs",

Harnessing an immoral compass guided by the

Sins and the doubts.

Am I asking "What If?", to disguise my knowledge of "What Is",

Or do I simply ask "What if?" To find a distraction from

"What is?"