A false hope
of belonging

shaded by disappointed lectures
by an idolized puppeteer of authority

shameless
we toss our ideals on the roots below
to gain one free moment
from thought

look back on that body
think of the grunting
sweating
pouring ink onto pillows
secreting through stretched pores
letting the dreamer sleep,
and the others dream
on these brightest nights

no more possessive pronouns
no one wonders
like we used to
no greater power is knocking

we're convicts of our own convictions

a paradox
air gets hard to swallow
hide under your quilt
of disdain and guilt

keep me afloat
but never show me how