In The Trees

A hollow form of broken wires

That's what you are

Nothing connected 

You're not whole

Not even half

A portion of humanity drifts in your eyes

But what I see most of 

Is the blackness of a lost soul

Hell bent on proving itself.

You wish to be strong

But crumple under the weight of others judging looks

You wish to be powerful

But find only dirt under your fingernails

If empty had a face

She would look like you. 

And so you pull the trigger 

As if one more lifeless carcass on your wall 

Will make a difference 

You justify their blood with hobby 

Their fear with vengeance 

Like they deserve it

Like, somehow, they took something from you

Do you think that taking life is justice?

You stand there with that crooked smile 

You hold that pose like you’ve won the game

Then heave the picture at everyone's faces

A picture devoid of something so essential 

It is lifeless,

It is Hollow 

And again, you convince yourself that death gives you life.