Seven

What is that?

Is that music?

I don't need that, I don't need a beat

I don't need a metronome, I'd probably just turn to stone

It came to me like an affliction

And I’m bound by my convictions so

I wrote this in the depths of the distress that I created

I'm a monster in the making

But it came to me like a blessing

I'm twitching, foot tapping, lightly dancing, neck hair standing

serenading, reminiscing, I don't even need the music

I just need a fix, for my addiction

Of one rhyme after the next

A verse to follow it

A stanza to finish it

Because I'm a junky for this

I'm strung in, I'm strung out

Not to mention abstract

Turning the tables as I crinkle these pages

And pull my fucking hair out

If only this method

Wasn't so damn effective

So therapeutic

It's a result of despair, a product of hardship

So I just sing the sixth song of Solomon

I am beloved and my beloved is mine

I say it again and again

Time after time

As I continue to reminisce

On the way to Tarshish

I live for the what ifs, the could of’s

The would haves and the maybes

The should of’s and could be’s

The highs, the lows

Not the vacancy in between

Counting blessings, counting sheep

Like seven

Seven names, seven days

And I'm back in my rage

sitting in a depressive state

to reach a euphoric place

just to escape the pain

I turn to the words

I evade to this page

My gift, my curse

It illustrates my state

The words are my escape

They medicate my ways

as I meditate on my mistakes

Maybe I'm insane

Making paper cranes

Bolted to the stage

Trapped in the writer's haze

Repeating all 72 sacred names

I commit all the same

Cuz Elijahs at the gates

Mashiach is on his way

Shekhinah never dissipates

And roses still grow in the shade

I pray for the sunlight

I shuckle for the rain

The singing birds in every cage

Even those paper cranes

To me it's all the same

Because I've fought dragons

Tamed lions

And stood at the feet of giants

I've climbed the tallest mountains

And I've reached their summits

But to me it's not enough

To repair what's been broken

Daniel spoke of the four kingdoms

But I couldn't catch his words

That night he faced seven lions

So what am I searching for

and easy slumber

and some uneasy closure

Is this thread really broken

The one I've hung from

for five years too long

and are these branches really giving

forgotten by the roots that suspend them

and is this light really fading

the same light that shielded me

from the monsters I ran from

I've come to realize

that I'm an addict for havoc

and a junky for madness

I romance sadness

and I find beauty in tragedy

perfection in insanity

anger is to me

like a train is to tracks

for once my world breaks apart

and the walls begin to collapse

I'll just jump through the cracks

and embrace whatever circumstance

I'll stand still on a bridge

and I'll count the seconds until the edges snap

and I'll love every moment

just to find the line between passion and obsession

I think I balance on it

About the Poem...

A combination of two poems, the first I wrote at the age of 16, the second at the age of 20.