If you cannot place your ear to the earth and hear its quiet hum,
Or watch the seasons change like the beating of a drum,
Or feel your spirit seeping like mycellium into the universe,
How can you place judgement upon the intensity of my experience?

Your plastic entanglements could not withstand the brutal inciciveness of my pesonality,
Which you so desperately need me to change,
Clawing as you plunge into the abyss,
Firmly bound to the social edifice.

I am sorry for your pain but this is not my knife,
I cannot heal what is not broken.
I will apologize for my life,
When you make amends for your sin.