Individuality

I am walking with passing days
Like a million shadows come to stay
I am walking with my passing ways
Having grown less life than decay

My fingernails are scratching at wounds
That I keep breathing and treating with salt
Because of my own stirring of the dust
When I try to run from my own trailing gust

Take my life away
If I am deserving
Then also take my earth
Where I have stepped
I planted choking weeds of indignation

The gravestones around mine
Play pride and believe to be in rest
Next to each other
As we all sleep lifeless
As if that is silence and comfort
To not be able to stir my bones
And scratch the weeds out of my ribcage

That doesn’t even make life easier
To know that I can chose not to stamp myself with death’s seeds
That I could not hide under cover’s with her
That I could not drink bottles empty of life
But full of sticky unconsciousness
Or maybe full of unconscience
Because either way I am deciding
Always a life for someone
and a life against someone
while everyone else is playing hangman
haphazardly for some man
or their own man

Then of course
We all our hiding behind window blinds
And only stripes of light and shade
Pass onto our dead skins
My thoughts wonder that
Really then maybe right and wrong
Are just the black and white on a zebra
Racing into the lion’s jaws
Asking me that I can only submit to his devouring grace
That death comes either away
And choice is just the skin on my soul

Then again skinning my own hide
To pay for the colours I decide
And the black stripes I wear
Would seem a bit cold for me in this world
And my soul could not be contained to the privacy
Of my individuality