A Lonely Soul

My soul is tattered.

I long to be taken from this world

and yet I can’t let go.

My father’s closet

Third shelf on the left

Chilling metal.

I’m searching 

for a place where I belong

to no avail.

The casing slips into the barrel

easier than

flipping channels

Day after day

I run tirelessly

in circles.

Down the stairs and out the door

No one can hear

my blunderings.

Is up a direction?

There is none

in this hopelessness

Click.

Ready.

Am I?

What is focus?

Shapes and forms

All is a blur

The metal is cold on my tongue.

finger on trigger.

Ready.

I am nonexistent

and the world goes on 

without me.

A Lonely Soul (Part II)

I am here.

A whisper,

but existing.

Bustling crowds

are blind

to me.

Blood has been spilled,

across a splinter collection

for me and you.

A whisper

striving to be less

and let him seep through.

Backwards philosophy

permeates my thinking

I must become less.

Once bold.

Now faded.

Soon lost in

the chalk dust

I LIVE for Him.