A Poem A Day

I'm setting myself up
on a dietary regimen
of mass proportion!

A poem a day
starting today
until every page
of this 33 cent notebook
reeks of the Holy Trinity
of salty excretions.

Documentation
of all this unseen footage
right as the celluloid
has treaded the limits
of my powder keg mind
and they really do send me
to lick my wounds and name them
after fellow inmates.

Maybe by the end
I won't be a one-trick pony
Won't be so
redundant
redundant
redundant,
like that rhetoric,

like those times that you caught me
with my fist in my mouth,
sliding it further down my esophagus
with sandpaper-laced knuckles
and a smile with a hellfire-lit joy.

I will not be a manufactured
product of your ancestry!
I will rise from this
"Misery loves company" gimmick,
landing feet upon places
you probably couldn't even spell at my age...
let alone now.

It's the labor pains
of hearing your eyes seethe with rage,
the hunger pains
of never realizing my full human worth
that will subside when I
grab these reins you've been
tightening my neck with for almost two decades.

So it's a poem a day,
starting today,
and lasting long after
you say
"It'll fail."