am… was… will be

i am made of air,
am made of filth,
made of nothing but despair
and scrapes
and sour blood
and things to love and to forget
and things to hurt
and borrowed sweat.

i was a fool,
i was a broken fool,
and as i stood in front of you,
i layed out
arms,
and legs,
and heart for you,
for you to break,
you hissing snake!

i will be dust,
i will be nothings,
i’ll hide my trust
and set the fire
from down my spine to my desire,
clenched in my hands and some barbed wire.
with this i’ll be no more than that:
the lovely, broken fool in a mad hat.