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


 

 

Compromised Focus

Screaming in basements to avoid being heard,

Typing out thoughts so patience doesn’t have to be tested,

It’s all become so routine;

Figuring out how to make the loudest noise yet remain concealed

In an absent-minded and loud world.

Exhausted at the resonance of criticism,

Flattened by the glare of chosen ignorance,

My disdain for sleep is tested by my stronger desire to avoid people.

While my body will be in far worse pain if I lay down uselessly,

It’s better than the pain of being surrounded by people

whose interactions feel like they’re done out of duty rather than hospitality.

Why believe you’re in a group when the people make you feel lonely?

Why sit next to someone who seems as though they’re deaf to your voice only?

I’m confused as to what relationships are actually supposed to do,

Especially since people seem to favor conversations on screens involving icons and abbreviations,

Rather than human engagement and sound.

Why should I see you in person when I can see you just fine on my phone screen?


Don’t waste your touch You won’t feel anything

 

 

Misunderstanding Guaranteed

 

One hand open and the other closed in a fist,

Offensively prepared in order to defend.

Straightened out after almost dying,

But why does it have to be that mortality is the only reason to try and make sense?

 

I’m amazed at what my eyes have seen,

But all the more amazed at how limited I am in perspective and insight.

My trust is much like when I try to hold your hand,

Strained at best; painful and unsure, uneasily making an effort for something desired and also frightening.

Cold winds have become a pleasure in this life with almost constant muscle pain;

While the stiffness is enhanced, it reminds me of the privilege is to be alive.

Humanity is a strange activity more often than not,

The closer you come to dying;

You may end up feeling more alive.

 

Walking a sidewalk is more akin to swimming in a sea of misinterpretation,

Surrounded by floundering intentions and emotions.

Masked attendants stand at corners waiting to cross the street,

When they can’t even understand how to interact with another human being.

Any questions?

Don’t expect an answer.

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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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Half a Heart from a Whole Mess

Call it enlightenment or the end of denial,

It doesn’t matter to me;

But I find the mouse on a wheel running in my mind named Overt Analysis,

Is the primary cause of my depression as of late.

Identity;

it’s defined as consisting of many things & very few simultaneously,

It just depends who you ask about it.

In a society where most are more comfortable with truth being based on relativity,

As opposed to any sort of evidence or facts;

What do you expect?

Then again, I’m the one who thought my life would change “magically”

during my adolescence if I changed my name;

Because I had & still have a hard time identifying with or feeling as though I belong in my family of origin.

Biting my own white knuckles,

Suddenly the chokehold is looser;

Breathing is painful,

But only because I often forget to not hold my air in.

Nature thankfully has unsettling ways of reminding you about the importance of order.

I’ve heard people say they’re ready to die,

But I often wonder if it’s only because their afraid to live?

If they think being alive is just too burdensome;

If the grey in their eyes has become too strong a haze for their intrinsic light to break.

Oddly though, we often forget that we have some control & often more than we like to admit over our thoughts.

When you get caught in a dangerous water current,

It’s hard to make it back to shore;

But the irony of a lot of people who don’t make it,

Is that they were often warned before.

I used to chase after people who I thought ran away,

But it turned out;

At least with some,

They just didn’t ever learn how perceive when to go or when to stay.

When to shut up & walk away,

When to speak out.

Is anyone out there?

I used to scream that I didn’t care,

Mainly because it was unfair to admit

that I cared for many I later learned just didn’t want me to.

I don’t limit my caring any less,

For better or worse these days;

I’m just not so quick to voice it,

Or make it known.

After all, voicing cares & concerns to a faithless & careless audience;

Is equivalent in usefulness to yelling for help at a center for the deaf.

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