Junkyards are cemeteries too
they're just the ones no one brings flowers to
or visits after they've said goodbye
and they are filled to the brim
with forgotten wheels and empty bodies
and I am sick of these wheelbarrow operations
and the way the mice eyes sparkle
as they wait by the mailboxes
that don't even belong to them
for love letters from the cats that will never come
because when she said "I love you"
it was a junkyard kind of goodbye that she meant

"they" say it's easier
to rip off the bandaid quickly
presumably because the pain
is so fleeting
but is it okay by "they"
if I scream my hurt
drawing out every syllable
loudly, complete with raging
spittle and seething emotions
throwing buried truths
into a stunned face
that can't wake up
or shape up, or shake off
shackles of an insanely lost
predisposed personality
Is it okay with "they"
to hurl obscenities
to those that have been defeated
in their own mind
"they" say to rip off the bandaid
quickly
but I've found, by doing that
the wound bleeds more profusely
and it's harder to heal
for the bandaid,
"they" reviled
was the only ******* thing
holding
the deepest cut together

All things fade
Rain washes away the deeds done
Somewhere on the earth, in the trees
On a winding path, where the fireflies
Like failing Christmas lights flicker.

That poem you wrote about me,
is my favorite of your works.
How could it not be?
That's the most wonderful thing
anyone's ever done for me.
To care enough to be inspired, by me.
To care at all.
But when you asked me,
I lied && said I liked another one better.
I didn't want you to think I was being arrogant.      
I care what you think.
When you told me that your favorite
movie trilogy was The Lord of the Rings,
I told you that I'd never seen any of the films.
What you don't know,
is that later that day
I went out && rented all three films.
I stayed up that entire night
watching them straight through.
I thought it would help me
to understand you better.
I thought it would make me feel closer to you.
I'm not sure if it did that,
but I enjoyed the films nonetheless.
I've always had a problem
conveying my emotions to people.
I convey all sorts of emotions,
just never the right ones at the right times.
Somehow it always felt like I'd be too vulnerable, showing people how I really feel.
For as long as I can remember,
I've always acted the exact opposite
of how I really felt. It felt safer.
I guess I always thought that if I showed another emotion, other than how I really felt, when I was ostracized, criticized, put down, for such displays of emotion, I wouldn't be affected by it.
After all, that wasn't the real me anyway.
Boy, was I wrong.
I now have enemies who love me,
because I've only ever shown them
kindness, so they wouldn't know
how I really felt about them.
I then have people that I would go
to the ends of the earth for, that believe
I hold a strong disdain for them.
I'm not quite sure how to fix this conundrum I'm in, but you really make me want to figure it out.

You once said that in your lifetime
you wanted to witness unrequited love..

the self-styled trumpeteers of ethnic hate
wish to build fences
    close the gates
to keep out those who flee
from self-styled trumpeteers of religious hate
who, as it is,
claim to feel called to hold up
ancient teachings that are out of date
in modern democratic times
when neither chimes of church bells
nor the cries of muezzins
or any other servants of religion
rank higher than the people’s democratic vote

as we are told by the elected
trumpeteers of democratic nations

god and the state each get their share
in separate spheres
but do not mix

for me
those who dare violate this rule
just come across as desperate to solve
new problems with old words
look backward and believe
that when they sell regression
     garnished with some bows
it will be seen as progress
make people overlook that
     while they now may live by simple truths
they can no longer disagree
     without the fear of ****** harm

just let us speak out loud and clear
     against the self-styled trumpeteers' song

to **** in the name of whatever god
is always wrong

~~<♡>~~

my
father
sleeps
a
lot
now

he
prefers
his

dreams


SoulSurvivor
(C) 1/3/2016