Years Better Erased than Written

I have enough words to tell you I don’t have anything to say,

Not now and not ever again.

 

What’s the point?

What does it matter?

Does anyone actually value being literate,

Or is it merely a convenience?

 

Buried in megapixels,

Whored out for micro SDs,

If only you had a brain.

 

For the fact that change has occurred,

Life remains the same;

Yet because hardly anything is the same,

It’s only then we recognize there has been any change.

 

D          I         E


 

 

Choices: Arrival & Departure

Words, for close to a year now;

Have been nearly impossible to find.

A paragraph of personal writing seemed to require an act of God,

But considering all existence is an act of God in and of itself;

I guess, it’s not as grand of a challenge as first imagined.

My mortality is the one thing giving me peace at the moment,

A world of difference from the anxiety it has provided historically.

 

Where or what I call home is officially immaterial,

And I’m grateful.

I’ve experienced things I thought always wanted recently,

Under circumstances I would’ve never chosen,

And yet I’m ready to let it all go.

To move on and have it exist merely as a memory.

Timing is still sensitive though,

That will never change.

And I’m grateful for this as well,

For it helps my reason keep on fighting my impulses quite well.

Onto another year of life,

Filled with questions and possibly not many answers

But who says that is anything to be upset about?

Another year, that I will gladly live one day at a time and no more.

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Morning Oration

No matter how it is presented,

Or how it is supposedly justified,

Hypocrisy is one of the ugliest human traits.

 

So, what do you do when you’re the hypocrite?

The filth and poison being released into the world,

Is a burden you’re responsible for creating.

I knew most any trust I’d even imagined to possessing had been broken,

But I didn’t intend to forget what trust was altogether.

Unfortunately, I believe it happened because it just made things easier.

 

When the face you hate seeing most is your own,

You look only when required;

And make haste otherwise.

I’ve really done it this time,

And this is the oddity of mistakes.

Whence you’ve recognized you’ve lost your way,

It doesn’t always mean you need to discover a new path.

You may have run out of all resources possible to have and need to rest,

You may backtrack and seemingly digress;

But never, should you ever, give up and surrender.

 

I want to desire to trust others again,

But I believe must learn how to trust myself first.

How and why should I expect to trust people I’m around occasionally,

If I can’t be bothered to trust the person I am and will be for all time?

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Leave No Trace

On the run,

What direction is the correct one?

When there isn’t really anyone to follow,

Or at least it seems maybe too many to choose;

This isn’t really an easy question to answer.

Doing nothing is the only clearly wrong answer,

But I don’t even know if I’m asking the right question.

The masses are attempting to come together,

While the “select few” seem to be scattering.

Why do we consider university a high point of life,

When unity and diversity are seen as too much work?

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Beloved, Fear

The thumping in my chest,

Reminiscent of my favorite drummers double bass pedal kicks;

Joking suggestions & firm misunderstandings, like glue, stick.

Lethargically & confusingly working,

Wondering if I’m practically doing anything.

The possibility of my desire becoming reality,

The predetermined conclusion that to even suggest a thing is fallacy.

Fear, at times, is like the blanket your grandmother made for you;

It has sentimental value as an heirloom of simpler times & familial love,

But also is a reminder of sleepless nights from it’s allergy irritating materials.

No matter how much you itch and sneeze, you can’t let it go.

But I’m tired of sleep walking,

I’m done settling for comfort based on familiarity & not reality.

The war for tomorrow has started today.

I am awake and will fight,

But wounded & a bit unstable in mind.

Fear is fear, and that is all.

Fear is beloved, the biggest lie of all.

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