A Tear Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

Life without limbs, sighting a mud pox to unbox; saying no word, striking a faceless tone, touching, thrusting pain into my heart: waits a fox in one eye, echoes, sharp emotion, painful reaction in me.


Dot forms a drop, having no stop to its rape; moving faster, wobbling to the top in anger, making changes inside the body: escaping hurt, out of eye, seeing a mound pile like a rock.


I was found, indeed, to be the maker of this creature; at me, evil schemes biting, not the sole creator of it, heard the yell of its baker: sinking on my cheek slowly sighted this faker, a puddle.


Events laid out in actuality, endured in life, bring out of its pit the facts of rage to ring, tearing me down into a ripping fling of horror: casting belief that's cruel in my soul, direct connection alive, fated aimed intentions.


Time up, leap into the air; send a small drip off your cheek, depart chin down from your eye a bright gem, within a blinking spot, liken an image to the shape of a wall: it's tall, seeing a twinkling dot.


Factors free from your heart, strike a tear crown, carry unrighteousness; set fear line your body, burst outward, be found guilty: shear in misery, unfold countless uncertainties this limbless toad.


This demonic anger drops to the lower floor, splattering it into pieces, spinning in the room, destroying this small dot doom by a boom, breaking it into smaller parts: rolling forth beads, touching things, multiple pains.


Any small tear from its pit exposes its dark nightmares, like a ball to go, free will, fallen; reflect this inner harm that it carries: giving a call, answering sorrow stopped by none.