Suicide Days

It's a suicide day,
if there ever will be.

Hot & Sweaty,
Nitty Gritty,
You've not solved gravity
and still
You try for feeble greatness.
It was nothing,
those sounds between
        dusk and dawn...
maybe the other way 'round.
Still it was nothing,
just hearts smashing
like empty wine bottles
in a 25 year trail
of broken glass
strewn across continents... 

I built this prison myself
because I know no one is safe,
and if we lock up
the parts that cried hardest,
right where they were,
we can keep time-convicts
to be pen-pals with.
Some we curse,
some we worship;
Gods of different times
          of different crimes.

It's a suicide day,
      if it's a day.
Greatness sits on the other side
where dreams of family:
        fatherhood & purpose
        caretaker & security
        love in all its comedy
Still, it's a regretful knowledge,
enough for ten lifetimes.