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I face my fear of the morning,
Because that's when you say goodbye.
I thought we were here for the poetry
Not to win a popularity contest and gloat arrogantly about how loved we are
Not to make friends with multiple personas of the same person
and wait for likes and comments to come pouring in on our *******

I thought we were here for the stories penned by talented writers and for inspiration in our own work
Not to plagiarize the writing of others and steal something from them that can't be replaced
Or to bring others down by telling them they're not welcome here
To bash others openly, repeatedly, harshly
making them feel like their words are not as important

I thought we were here for the poetry
not to call each other names,
slandering the only thing that separates us from everyone else in our lives;
our words

But I hang my head as I realize we're no longer here for the poetry
We're here to make war with each other out of petty differences and jealousies
when we should be using that passion to create inspiration from each other
"I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control
But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain
To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain
From my eyes
**Tonight I wanna cry"
"Tonight I wanna cry" - Keith Urban
Hate is not a built-in app
It has to be downloaded
Then it has to be installed
If only it required permission
If only it had to be opened
Rules of use to be read and agreed to
And as simple as a button to push
So that it can just be uninstalled
Unfortunately it can be a virus
That infects with insidious intrusion
Into the systems that we call life.
I can't eat.
You think that I'm stupid,
But it's no small feat
Because though I can feel my stomach shrinking inside me,
I am stuck on repeat,
Starving, ignoring, forgetting
Yanking with this sharp leash
Saying don't eat
Don't eat
Don't eat.
Because maybe then I'll have some control.
Or the ugly will go away.
Maybe the black, consuming pain
In my heart,
Will finally turn to gray.
"Gosh Mary! Why don't you eat? I just love food!"
We work as if to vanquish sin, delight
In pay day, reign the ego boosting bills
The hours nine to five grow tired and gripe,
Our sense of worth built firm in green and thrills

A victory deserves a toast, so raise
Your glass and cheer! But don't you dare talk ill
Of men who seek the outside bench, no place
To sleep, ignored by wealthy launderers who'll

Deny the beggar hundred cents yet blow
One hundred bucks to keep their hair due kempt
If love were space then that's how far I'd go
Myself, to mourn the late compassion's sense

It's true: they may be rich upon retire
But who will hold them when their time expires?
you can make all the money in the world, but it doesn't mean anything without caring for those around you
something stirred and alive came forth
out of my own heart it spoke
      all creation is of equalities
      sister brother relations
      here is truth

not to let it pass untested
i made an agreement
with belief

     blade of summer grass
     teach me

     dust speck
     gold starshine

     water droplet
     fortuitous spider
     i hear your messages

spider moved in her sun-sparkled circle
she threw me spider kisses

but when i gave her kisses back
some voice came booming

     humanity is the golden crown
     of god's achievement

and the spirit of these words then took flight,
transversed my landscape,
crossed an ocean's width of time

and dropped under the waves
with the natural weight
its distorted truth

practices of superiority
of *******, of killing exploitation
rose from the collective--
flashed their white lightening

but struck counter--
diluting dissolving disarming

greediness and favoritism
manipulation and lies

expectation of privilege
so called divine right

a voice it came again
so that greater love
may have heard itself

    all creation is conscious
     all is alive all are equal

     none is better or worse
      than another

      remember this
       *to practice
 Jan 2016 Give a little love
they don't see the smile fade away as she turned away
because she had been programmed to be ashamed
to hide the pain
to never let them see the scars that crisscrossed her heart
so she never spoke
she never let them know
that everyday the figurative gun in her hand became easier to hold
she was no longer afraid
of the noise it made
she while she covered herself with others fake mask  of being "fine"
the others thought there was nothing wrong
because they were to lazy to actually ask her
*"are you sure?"
I jump in puddles
I catch snowflakes with my tongue
I build castles out of blankets
I still feel young
I play with my food
I get muddy and wild
**** jokes make me laugh
I am still a child
We live on borrowed time
We have to use what we got
Who wants to grow old?
I certainly do not!
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