I get sick of cliches, I get sick of  the tropes

I get sick of affected twits and how love had them on the ropes

If I let myself breathe the same air as everyone else I'm gonna choke

I can't help but breathe her in and feel I've gone beyond the scope

Of my, simple visions of destroyed inhibitions

and I, can't help but get nervous how she changes up my focus

Can I, convey this handedly while knowing understandably

That I'm leaning on a danger to a core that I've exposed

We've leaned down for contact, she pushed me I push back

The pressure on our hearts has potential for explosion

The languish I had locked inside interior erosion

Implodes, he dotes of notes he'd wrote to quote a query quietly

Distrusting of emotions, just a quiver can inspire me

Fearing no enemy, fearing no evil entity

Fearing only connection and if I'm wasting my energy

Love brought me happiness but it stirred up the cobwebs

Little demons laying dormant til I explored them in every form

in every figure in every norm til they've distorted my performance

But as pandora's box was 1st class special ordered to my doorstep

I dove in straight for signs of hope, a passing look could soon afford this.

She voices her fears, connections lost by the distance

I'll bridge the gap to defend her, no need she says with persistence

She's scared of monotony, she gets scared of the tropes

She gets sick of affected twits and how they leave her with no hope

If she's forced to breathe the same as before she's gonna choke

I leaned in for contact, I push her, she pushed back

We're two shades of the same Wavelength

Our angles just refract.

Pressed into the issue is my neck into the block

They said "you'd lose your head if you 'unhinged' it" so they'd mock

I'm set to wreck defenses of the bets deception in the case of my detected

degradation in the path of my elation

waiting for annihilation is my sense of violation

I define the vices as a time to track, stack, and counteract my existential missile crisis

Dress this deflected duress invented by these compressions

and pulsing bloodlines distressed, with toxic vision's direction

Repeating the motions but coming short with the payoff

I'm stacking foundations, but the proof seems a way off

I've said to myself I've ordered glory by priority

If it's lost in the mail, good ******* luck with conformity

Candle ends burning and hold my crest til it's fallen

Burn the witch at the stake, cut my head at the block

I'm holding out for the truth, and keeping this as my rock

Your pilgrimage building, and running off with complacence

I'll make a Mission of me, my temple and my new nascence.

It's good to wake up again.

My slumber slunk in of its own accord,

my living realm a shutter of mismatched viewfinder promo pics

I can't switch the shutter fast enough to become animated

so it's good to wake up again

where I can keep the full frequency as it is

Give me analog, give me a thousand frames per second

Let me hold on to the whole memory from that lucidity

So it's good to wake up again

Where I can hover above myself and see what I'm up to

Follow myself down a supposed tangent

Only to see the roadmap written down on the backs of my eyelids

So it's good to wake up again

To remind myself the two realms are interchangeable

With pieces ripped from each other

So that my dreams are dotted along reality

So it's good to wake up again

I could give you an emotional catharsis cavorting a chorus between pleasure in my prose

and upheld distortions in the pain of the throws of each moment I've held up to my nose

to tell if I can still recall it fresh, the scent of the locker room ribbings and hometown chiding's

"This is who you must be"

Make you come to grips with the absurdity of having to compete for attention to voice in a craft that

is by all intents and purposes subjective

much as all success is subjective

much as all states of mind are subjective

much as I tried to deflect this disconnect, correlation not implying causation

Work not determining happiness

Pain not conducive to Catharsis.

Instead, let's make em all laugh

Because it's already stacked into a sick joke

Speaking truth to power self congratulators talk about field workers like a **** case study

A case study my grandparents walking with Cesar Chavez wrote pages for with their backs

I  don't want to hear more trustafarian folks tell me about the struggles of my people

No.

I want poor folks to tell me how full of **** I am

I want to shout out truth bombs to a crowd that doesn't want to hear it

I want be a contrarian to remind people that they're alive

I want to rap battle with the parishioner as he lays another childhood friend into the coffin

Car Crash, Car Crash, Leukemia, Car Crash, always take my golden ones, have another road rash
You gave me thoughts of god distraught I locked myself atop the lofts compelled to pressure, mom and pops have got the answer down on lock, I'll hail thee mary full of grace til I can't feel another trace, the news that I was read today was sad so I can pray the shame away, get *****, take the blame away, get *****, touch myself again to make me feel like I'm a man, but I don't know what that should mean; if I'm a man am I unclean? ***** Mexican poor boy, embrace that ****, and crack a smile.  Depression is a myth you see, and god is real so follow me. You have a healthy fear in you, and this is good for this is true, the fear of god, the fear of love, the fear of judgment from above, and fear to let yourself be heard, you couldn't say a single word, the fear of if she'd ever know, the fear to let your demons go, the fear of hope, the fear of help, I think you even fear yourself.

"Parce domine Parce Populo tuo, ne in aeternum irascaris no bis"

Oh lord please let me be misunderstood, please let my illumination and voice go beyond the choir

I don't need a bunch of yes men in my life

I don't need people who've never tasted death, tasted pills uncounted and unmarked

Never woken up groggy to the feeling of "thank you what forces may be, I am still alive"

I don't need to preach to the choir.

Humans are silly

Little blobs of ***** and eggs mix together to turn into little flabby flesh things that churn out a bunch of farts and yell about stuff

Those blobs of flesh things get told how to do stuff by the older flesh egg ***** things who are starting to go bad, so they compensate by laying down rules about how to be a flesh egg ***** thing

They make up different reasons for why they're all here swimming around bumping into each other and making noises that only their own groups of ***** egg meat people can understand, because that's what the older eggs taught them

They try to add some **** they call beauty to all of this by scribbling on stuff, or making noises they think sound good, or building stuff, and they think they're clever.

They'll tell you if it's not proper art it's not good art, but they'll also tell you art is subjective

They won't stop themselves and realize this whole omelette they're a part of is just being made up as they go

Sometimes, people are just Omelettes.

Emergent and forming I feel a storm is imploring that soon without any warning you beg to cross a line

Every time, nothing is sacred but sacramental complacence is marked as roles of the shameless

Mean to skip a line another time? Is this too rough and obtuse for a cutie like you to boost the power line?

Number 9, completion is power and stricken chords every hour proceed to timeline devour those daily entities

I do decree that opposition to me is free and withered beatings to meetings, detours and dealings

understanding demands of variable plans is held by the hand that feeds the depleted need

I see it from every angle, the tangle, the multishifted frame though it dangles, I can't be stuck in my own head when

I see the reflections of me in the treasure it jangles, brings into focus where my head fell to float in the

moments set to wrangle, pull it in, dwell upon the good and discard where it hampers new fangled notions like

truth effusions of love and devotion are swallowed up in the daily ocean of noise traffic, the more verbose,

Graphic dispatches matches blasted disasters dashed and rash past distractions amass magic attacks balanced

Secular motion entwined with metaphysical potions, divided what is your quotient? It doesn't add up in this

moment.

Interpersonal, intergalactic, universal assertions disturbed by verbage of outrance

Message mismanaged mischief mallaeble mayhem managed maganamously mallicous mannered when I

would proclaim them. Members materialized meriting masturbatory movements and monetized

malappropriation I have no patience nor pathos for indiscriminant egos demonstrating a tangent as canon and

paralyzing progressions toward psychic visions of heaven, eyes as the cosmos, and pressures upended.

I'll cope with associations disastrous and tainted, but keep in my visage all that scratches my lenses

I know far too much to be content with the situation, but far too little to shatter falsehood's intitiation

I know you're afraid
You know I used to be afraid
Is this something I fear? I'm afraid not
Take your fears, and please let them rest for the night

For me the fear was only ever from the unknown,
the unknowable, the untold

I don't fear anymore in that way, because of what I know now

Not afraid that you would know, not afraid what that would mean
Not afraid of where you'd go, not afraid of how it seems

I don't need reassurance, I don't need explanation
You don't need to affirm a thing, that goes beyond the situation

I'm not afraid to see you here, in this place where my fears had gone to taunt me
I know enough of the big picture now to not sweat the gaps
I'm not afraid of a disconnect, because what you taught me goes beyond that

I dispel my fears the more I know, and the more I need to know
I don't need to name every star in the sky at night to know it fills me with awe
much the way I don't need to have every question answered,
when you were the real answer to my questions

I'm not afraid to be that answer, to work for it, to be that impossible completion
I'm not afraid of the work, the confusion, the learned constraint

I don't fear anymore in that way, because of what I know now
Take your fears, and please let them rest for the night

Let's not be afraid to mock ourselves, and how much we were scared to admit what we knew
And if you're still scared, I'd like to be brave for us

I'm not afraid to just let it flow, to just let it go, and I won't be afraid to let you know

I don't need reassurance, I don't need explanation
you **** my fears and bring liberation

Take your fears, and let them rest for the night,
so I can see the cosmos of you, and know I'm filled with awe