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West May 2020
We have mass produced a nation
                                                           (the citizens weep dissatisfaction).
The neon colored armor of the media,
supported by people with the newest regalia
                                                                         (of never having enough).
Praying to dead gods in smog filled steeples,
dancing under stars
                                                                   (the children must never see).
Feeding on each other,
a rich man's utopia
                                                                          (the struggling dystopia).
West Apr 2020
I'm clinging to the boat.
You push me down in jest.
I remember when a girl couldn't swim
I tried to help and to live,
someone had to throw me into deeper water
and drag her to where her feet could touch the bottom.
He trusted me to be able to swim
But you seem to not care if I can even see the bottom.
I'm clinging to the boat.
You push me down in jest.
The temptation to let go and sink no longer floats
to the top of my mind.
I am realizing you will never help me into the boat.
So I will shove you off.
West Apr 2020
Trust me,
a skirt?
Is not my subservience.
It's a piece of fabric.
Not a piece of me.
I am a human too.
A skirt?
Is not my subservience.
West Apr 2020
At first I thought it was a label assigned to me
showing in the way I sit alone in crowds of people
laughing at jokes I don't find funny
and allowing myself to remain static.

And then it was a challenge
'how can I make you like me today?'
'what do I need to do?'
Because of course it was all my fault.
That all others could find was fault in me.
No longer rigid static,
but yielding conformity
my personalities clashing
but crafted with artisan flair.

A prideful statement.
Bitterly, bitterly free
from all expectations
placed on me.
Strong in solidarity.
Perhaps not lovable to you;
but lovable to me.
West Mar 2020
Am i Ok.
Or do i not want to admit i might not be Okay.
Does it matter?
And tomorrow? Will it matter then?
West Feb 2020
I have never prayed as much or as hard,
then when I realized I might not believe in God.
West Dec 2019
I found a report that I wrote for you,
in 2018.
I don't know the grade it recieved.
Probably a good one- that's why you asked me.
But I know that if our friendship was like the paper,
somehow. Against all the odds,
The paper failed.
I hope you're doing well.
I'm going to let you go now.
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