coded messages

cold dreamy steel, sweating in bed,
the dreams i have swirling in my head
where i’m always the monster,
never a god,
and without decency,
I couldn’t even be…

I should have been a murderer,
devoid of sadness for ruthless deeds.
I should have been a knocker,
send that bovine to its knees.

The barking dogs and growling bears,
the burning cheeks from years of tears,
it’s a futile attempt at normal,
ever failing,
and without clemency,
I couldn’t even be…

I should have been a gangster,
an unfeeling and decisive repose.
I should have been a hangman,
of guilt he surely knows.

ignoble, empty vapid recognition,
the simple truth isn’t a validation;
though it helps to know
the future’s dead,
and there but consistency,
I couldn’t even be…