I heard it in my youth, and I've heard it once again.
You banish it away, it always comes back again.
Pain, they say, will always make you stronger.
Then when it hurts, why can't I live any longer?

Pain is not supposed to strengthen your soul.
Only your mind it strengthens "and" it leaves a hole,
And that hole is filled with poison to dull the pain,
And that poison will weaken you, like acid rain.

Apparently what you don't know won't hurt you.
That's right. It only hurts everybody else... "true".
People who eventually hurt you another way.
You'll tell them, "Go away, come again another day."

"It doesn't **** you." "Only cats have nine lives."
Because I'm aware of the multiverse, these knives,
Called dysfunctional lovers, friendships, and family,
Have killed me a thousand times; I live candidly.

I live honestly, because the pain of seeding a lie,
Can grow a thorny bush, upon seeing it you cry,
When you're pricked by the destruction of all,
Your chaos, wondering why you don't get a call.

Pain is good for lessons, that's why it's all around,
It's not that you're getting strong, only wiser.
Pain brings you to your knees, makes you touch ground,
For the power, you are weaker, only wiser.

There is a paradox of space for the individual in this sea of voices
An amorphous body of metaphorical sound that we avoid and ignore with our sense of selfishness and superiority
And yet we burn our civility to ashes for the sake of making sure that stranger knows we don't ******* agree with them
Here in this valley of poets, what is trending and popular, what is held dear is similar explorations of pain and adversity
Experiences of love, life, loss
And as I try and to distinguish myself by expressing my own uniqueness
I am a self indulgent hypocrit, who wants the same things as the idiots and disagreeables I try and hold myself superior to

At least here, on this little page away from the flow of superfluous information I can speak to a void of similar voices, where more come to speak than to hear, forgive me for saying

I am here to speak too
I'm no better
My voice may be different or distinct, I try to play with vocabulary and the conceptual
But you probably do the same
And art comes from pain so...
In the end, I'm still a weak ***** who holds onto to old images of love
Wishing the naked ****** friendships that took so long to build in the past will fall out of my phone when I wipe my thumb across it
And hoping the efforts to create something basic and tangible, and the efforts to create an identity worthy of societal admiration
Will deem me worthy to experience love again, part of me feels

But I'm not deluded by that. I've given up looking for something that comes when you aren't looking
The lost keys that turn up when you've looked everywhere and finally give up
Instead I am driven by the craft that I want to define me
And the satisfaction that the work gives me
It makes me happy amongst this mess of information overload and malnourishment I experience socially
By my own fault
Probably

As I let go of the catharsis of self expression now, petering out to a conclusion that has hopefully, a decent punch line
I know that I probably won't be heard, will be skipped over for stories of bitter broken hearts or tangible stories of adversity defeated
Skipped over in greater terms for the latest bag of shallow consumable ***** in the unhealthy social media world that I know you reader, hate as much as I do
The greater ocean of self expression that washes into a noisy murmur, the internet echoing the street

Who knows
You've read this haven't you
Maybe I'll get over my narcissism long enough to hear you too

I can't tell otherwise if its the waves in her hair that speak to me directly.  Nevertheless I am simply bewitched by it. And then her smile.  Her melting smile brings a moment of frozen enchantment to my eyes.   A smile with just the right curvature mixed in her face with her deep brown fiery eyes that lock into mine for a second of her happiness.  Its all I need in this world.  I will take it no further..

As I walk
the words of those that never existed
echo inside of my mind

I have learned
that you don't have to share each other's blood
to be the closest brothers

I can hear
thousands of voices swelling up inside
each begging for just one chance

I can see
every one of those smiling faces
that I've never laid eyes upon

Now I know
I'm friends with those that never existed
those that I have never met

I have fought
hundreds of battles with nary a scratch
but been mortally wounded

For I am
A warrior, a queen, a servant, a child,
a mere bystander

Because I
Have a library inside of my head
of all that I read

Narcolepsy* hard and heavy watch me fall asleep
            Lulled to bed in a cunning thread of the tangled web we weave
    I dream in pristine colors, windows of my mind anew
No fingerprints or ***** looks or evidence of you

         I find comfort in forever wherever it may be
        I may have left my home but it will always stay with me
                 The smell of all the smoke with the sound of all the rain
   On constant playback every second deep within my brain

        I found that time is all that matters and everything else faded
        I spent years and years learning how to forget everything I hated
    I've only gotten older and have nothing left to show
              Except a ringing alarm clock and blood on my pillow

     Narcolepsy** hard and heavy watch me as I sleep
     Another pill, another high, another date to keep
      If I shall die before I wake, I hope that I'm with you
    Then it won't matter where I go, cause you will see me through