You are going to die
before me.

I already know this.

You are going to get fat
and go completely blind
and probably,
eventually, they will
cut some parts off.

You are going to fall apart
in front of me.

I know this.

I still choose to stay.
I will be there
through all the appointments,
the stickings and pokings and cuttings and bleedings.

I have only wiped
a few *****
in my life.
Mine,
my son's,
a few babies
of friends.

I already plan on wiping yours
when you cannot.

I will draw
little sugar skulls
on your prosthetic feet.

I will make sure you always have enough medicine and it is always refrigerated.
I will help you
in and out
of the bathtub.
I will massage your legs
and arms
and back
and head
and neck,

every day.

I will make our boys breakfast
and walk the dogs
and make sure everything
goes back in the
same exact spot
and keep a file with all the pertinent medical information
so I can fill out all the paperwork.

I will take you to
all those folk rock shows you love so much
and describe the singers to you.

We will still garden together.
I can see you in a chair,
barking out questions
about our harvest and me,
going back and forth,
bringing you the biggest squash
to hold.

You see, I have given up thinking
I am ever going to
give myself to anyone else.

It is you and you alone.

So, when you start to fall apart,
and you will fall apart,
don't worry baby.
I am going to be there to wipe your ***.

Unto another galaxy
fractal
weaving a space-time continuum
black holes that never meet
yet always consume
forever alone
lost in the vacuum of Hell
where time meets time
and the end never ends

When thoughts give rise to instinct
instinct to have all the pretty things and shiny gold
food, shelter, love
organic matter is all we are
higher brain function makes us more than a squirrel?
I think not
you see, that same squirrel
dead in the road
where is his heaven
has he not contributed to the circle of life
these thoughts have my mind decomposing
despite oxygen, despite synapses firing
in the end we all just feed the Earth
intelligent life, I think does not equate more than this gift

clawing at my mind
memories that are not mine
implanted as a powerful seed
hunger for more fueled by greed
envisioning surreal landscapes, places never seen
only within an imagination exists a country so serene
for it is not this era that I breathe
rather a time when the land was cherished beneath
footsteps resound down a dusty, old road
I watch breathless while the sands of time erode
phasing into the future, a place where I do not belong
the strings in my mind strum a sad, mournful song
as these strange memories align
memories that are not mine
thoughts from another time
one in which by chance existence was a bit more peaceful
perhaps memories are just as deceitful
when they are not mine

You claim you are an activist,
but I'm sure you've not done a ******* thing.
Whining on the internet is a new old fashioned fling.
"I oppose the government and the freedom it tries to take!"
While you're drinking decaf lattes and you claim there will be cake.

#Iamafakehipsterdouchefag

Oh go **** yourself.

I cannot take you seriously, you ******* fakes and frauds.
You exist for mere attention and the undeserved applause.
I will not take a side and my mind will remain free.
To the past.
To the present.
And to the future,
it shall be.
To the liberals crying "IGNORANCE"! And the conservatives crying "OPPRESSION"!
I will not be a part of your self full-filling subjection.

So take that mask off and give us a "true" confession.

Blood in all the right places.

Your square ******* head
looks just the same,
a little older maybe,
some new lines around the edges.

Still the same crazy shine in your eyes.

Years later the same traces,
barely discernible
to the unknowing,
of earlier
disgusting
scenarios
being played out
in your living room.

I  smell the rancid
sweat of old men.

I  taste the curdled,
sour milk
of your breath,
recently begging for
alms.
I hear your hands
pleading whisper,
palms
being offered up
as your eyes
lower.

He owns you.

There is no magic within this mirror
To hide my undoubtful tears

I am ashamed of this
This feeling in the p it of my stomach
I should be happy
Grateful for this life

But I see that I am so small and meaningless
But I want to be more than this

I want to be your reason that you smile
I want to make this life worthwhile

I want to be seen and not in the shadows

I want to start this revolution
I want to be a solution
To someones unhappiness

So I hereby tell you you are beautiful and lovely
No matter what they say