I am not graffiti but I try to be,
As I stare at the passerby,
That seems to not see,
No matter how much I try.

You get to scream to the world
And they hear as they pass;
Souls lost in themselves
Who can’t see past-
The woes and burdens of loss
Blinding their eyes;
And yet they hear
Your pain-filled cries-
Knowing how much
You crave attention.
And they willingly give you
What you want;
Like an accepting teen
Who agrees to give in to the wishes
Of his stage-four-terminal-lung-cancer mother-
Without ever questioning why.
They call you Graffiti
But I call you Attention-
Awed at the fact that you can so easily
Do what I’ve been successfully,
Failing to do,
For these past 194 months…

I shift and forget ‘cause though shy,
I am not graffiti but I try to be-
Wishing people would finally indentify
Just why I’m wholly breaking to scree.

And maybe that’s why,
Ideas have run past and
I’ve buried myself in
What-Ifs and If-Onlys;
Letting the whole world down
And being let down-
Struggling to understand
Just where things went wrong.
Angry at being locked in but
Maybe it’s for the best.
What do we know?
What do I know?
Extramarital affairs,
Premarital encounters
Post-marital conflicts,
Unmarital pleasure,
Demarital endings…
Prefixes of nothingness
Used to illustrate
Wordings that have long since lost
Any true value-
To me at least.

They walk by always but don’t see;
And now I’m past questioning why;
I am not graffiti but I try to be
Even though they can’t hear my cry.

And I swirl in my world.
Still trying to understand.
Finally realizing what
‘Lonely” truly means without
Having one single soul to
Lean on as I scream away-
Unheard, unseen, uncared for-
So much for Graffiti-
Silently wondering if there’s any point at all
Enduring the silence so deafeningly loud
Xenial: An obvious way to coping-
Stage four of grieving;
For loss and death.

And now I know it’s all been a lie,
Wall-stuck as I peel off in misery
Crumbling to dust as my screams die-
I am not graffiti but I try to be.

And I want you to read this
Because I wish you were true
But you are, aren’t you?
Or not…I don’t know
All I’m saying is be here-
If you think you can stay
And listen to me bleed
These lines of mistake.
I wanted him, a mate
with a mind as cold
as the slice of ice
within my own brain.
I started with the head.
Better off dead
than giving in, not taking
what you want.
It took some time.
he didn't look the same.
I took a run and booted him.
Again.
Again.
My breath ripped out in rags.
It seems daft now.
Then I was standing
alone among lumps of snow,
sick of the world.

I am not graffiti but I try to be
As I stare at the passerby
That seems to not see
No matter how much I try.