Disconnect, disjoint, unified, detached, distant, afar, separate, divorced, abstracted sovereign, removed, apart.

There’s a feeling, I have between us.
And please do share if it’s mutual,
and please do share if it’s intentional.
But we’re whatever words you’d use to say,
Apart,
Unreachable,
Distant.

If I shook your hand the urge to wash it,
would overwhelm you. Overcome you.
Control you.

This stench you contrive around me,
this taint I have upon my skin.
Is only in your eyes.
Wipe them clear or steep in your lies.

I’d love to connect with you, live with you, laugh with you.
But this separation, this gap you spread.
Isn’t in my best interest.
To be down right honest.
I don’t ******* care for it one bit.

The removal you push, is displeasing.
It’s un-easing.
******* sick of it.
Sick of wasting time on it.
100 years or less.
You push us apart, there’s no time for it.

You divide into cliques.
A pyramid’s not hard to climb,
you just have to be ignorant, and self loathing.
But you can rest easy, you’ve climbed to the tippy top.
Where reality escapes you, and your induced separation clings to you.
But you hold it as tight as it holds you.
I can leave you alone up there, But accept my pity for you in your:
Lonesome
Isolation
Purposelessness
Blindness
Sadness
Hatefu­lness

There’s nothing to interpret in defiance.
Once you find a set, put place, position and stand.
Work up the vitality to speak in brutality!
There’s no point to declare without defense.

I want to **** in the wind, because *******.
Replace my mind with a button.
Press it, I’ll regurgitate your rhetoric.
I bet you get off to that, stripping autonomy.
Just tickles your ******. Makes you giddy.

I’d starve myself.
But I would eat a bullet if you had your way.

Without a situation, your just without motivation.
Writing in clear ink,
paralyzed in double think.

There’s nothing to interpret in defiance.
A set, put place, stand, or position.
Dissent should never be conveyed,
unclear, blurry, or in repent!

Opinion shouldn’t be followed by different!
Just stand in on stage, speaking sense!
Those that matter will respect,
others will fall to the aspect...

Help me here.
Cause I lie inside.
Only see what’s near.
What’s left is hide.

Confused and built up.
Tension and frustration.
Release the cup.
Healing and confusion.

Be me or be me?
Who is I? Who am me?
Distorted and contorted.
Self-gratification.
Invites mutilation.

Mutilation of human.
Mutilation of divine nature.
Of birth given beauty to all.
Self-gratification objectifies others.
It destroys what could be possible.

Confusion and disconnect.
Birthed from elementary curriculum.
Who am me? Who is I?
I is ***. Me is ***. You are ***.

Arises tension and frustration from such confusion and disconnect.

But I am me. And you is you.
And we are people.
Not ***.
But *** they show, they teach, they preach.
Safe ***, taught in 4th grade P.E.

Frustration in no connection.
Tension in confused definition.
*** is love? But it’s not. But they say so.
They’ve said so for so long.

At 15 finally a boy is able to thinks and feel abstractly.

I feel physical love.
But something in my chest makes me need.
It makes me need you.
And I don’t have words for it.

They’ve only made us objects of an equation.

The sum is ***.

So excuse this mutual confusion please.
I’m sure we can figure it out together.

This mysterious feeling in my chest.
Makes me need to wrap myself around you.
As you wrap around me.
Makes me need to pull you into me.
And feel you pull me into you.

So close that we leave our bodies behind.
And only have what really makes us.

You’ve helped me hear.
Cause we lied inside.
Only saw what’s near.
What’s left is pride.

Complicate this world you leave for me.
Don’t run away from me!
Embrace my inevitability!

I’ll drag you toward me, if need be.
You can’t look at me?
Why do I terrify thee?

Claw at your existence desperately.
As I pull you to face me!
Drink me in and quench reality!

You can’t slow history!
Everyone is energy, temporarily.
Borrowed, it must be returned eventually.

But you struggled so falsely.
Your fingernails are so smelly.
What is it? It’s so unholy.

It stinks of the falsity.
That you clung to so desperately.
That you clawed at so desperately.
As I dragged you toward serenity.
Now go wash your hands with destiny!

I’ve fallen through a stage. Call it a phase, but I lay here sick. I don’t remember eating butterflies, but I need to purge. This loathing is my ailment. The misdirection of it, and the essence of it. But I’ve fallen out just know, and I realize that part of my spin is through. I can start a new.

I need someone too sink into me. I need her head, laid upon my chest. To hear her breath within mine, would be the best. Warm my cold loneliness, through her *******. Her beauty infests. Comfort me, as I spew, apostatize, and change view. Lay my hand upon her back, pull her tightly.

I’m not ready for, ***. Nor is my stomach ready to digest. I’m in need of comfort, a new mind in my head. Lonely and resent, replace and repent. I cry for help silently, I ignore my weeps. Stand in nothing, take no action too. I need her arms around me, weak and feebly. I’ll sink into her arms, melt into infancy. I need to be alone with someone else, besides me.

Hear my cry, weakly. I’ve never been with someone, feeling.