strut prince, strut

what?

that’s not your contrived posture?
that’s not you?

why deny what you have
spent your whole life building?

what?

that’s not your house of cards?
that’s not you?

your strut is all you can’t deny.

"Your Every Intention"

quiet those thoughts roiling around in your skull
toil and toll, you toil and then you pay the toll
for tilling a soul that you buried inside
the broken heart of a very young boy
and you can wish for it to come back and you can
play it all out inside the sweat of your grasp
that clings to an image of yourself back then
but it’s gone and that’s it

dreams of a world where you really belong
where you’re still handsome and never wrong
you’re lieing to yourself
you’re only fading
parading around in a limited world
but limitless is a word that you’ve curled
around the tip of your crooked tongue
still it all comes undone

one last roll of some loaded dice
one last chance to pretend that you’re nice
and maybe someone will fund your dreams
till they notice how bad you’ve torn at the seams
and they’ll see beyond the shine and the glare
and they’ll see beyond your hollow stare
and just when you think you’re right on the verge
they’ll leave you alone again

you cannot endure the still quiet of your room
you’re long since past noticing the glow of the moon
it’s just memories of your long gone years
your own fingerprints are all over your fears
poor boy gone, and old man rushing towards you
cursing aloud for your ignoring a present truth
a middle aged you in a disaffected now
is really no different than the boy disavowed.