letters from your shadow
letting you know what you're missing
by your side always watching
a fly on the wall stitched to your being
an invisible half never fleeting
even at night when you're sleeping
there it stays ; awake never dreaming
look carefully at what the shade knows
and let your mind become
one and whole

beauty is an inevitable reality, right?
is that even what i want?
i care not for muscle
i care not for tone, definition
i care not for the body which gives form
i care not for the thoughts that do me harm
i care not for the intentions ill in nature
i care not for the hiding that must be done
i care not for this animosity towards self
i wish for freedom
i want for nothing
i crave for lacking
and its horrible inbetweens

patriotism is a poison

the ideals held by many as the gold standard for our citizens
breeds contempt for otherness
those people not cut by the same mold
anyone who dares not follow in the footsteps of the forefathers

our part of the globe has been forged by so many
but accredited to the racial majority
everything is treated as a kindness
almost as if we are permitting them to live
and hope for a future with their families

we should be better than this.
we've claimed this part of our mother earth
for reasons that mean nothing truly
we've promised a better life for any who wishes to seek it out
what a disgusting lie

tell that to the migrants seeking shelter
all for their own reasons
sharing the hope that our shores will do them better

what is it they receive upon arrival?
contempt.
hatred.
evil.

the american melting *** is a lie.
the american dream is a lie.

conformity to the majority will always be seen as king
to those that hold the power we've allowed them access

and all that most of us do is sit and watch it all burn.

we no longer live in an era of self-sufficiency
everything has been modernized and standardized
all land tucked away into somebody's pockets
all resources taken by unseen suitors

we are thereby forced to co-operate with this system
to shake it's hand and play nice
well aware of the knife it holds behind it's back

but what is the alternative!

there are many propositions, all with their own failings
the answer at the moment, is that there is none
regardless of how off the grid you would like to live
you have to go through the machinations in place

unless you plan to completely isolate and hide
there will be laws to work with
standards to be enforced
zoning issues to tackle
fees to be paid
sigh

are these the choices we've been left?
to hide or to abide by the broken rules?
this "freedom" that we've been give
comes with oh so many wrinkles

as we walk, i am being analyzed
picked apart
and placed into demographics

each piece of my body disassembled
as they tell me
they can sell a happier beauty

"how are they feeling today?"
“what are they saying today?”

all details of my life are changed
into selling points
an attempt to market perfectly

these choices they give us
these promises
are built on lies and mean nothing

a false sense of security
when truly
they burrow ever deeper

“what are they looking for?”
“who’s brand are they loyal to?”

i don’t believe our right to privacy
to ourselves
is being upheld on both ends

we are placed in two groups
those who buy
and those who sell

with it being more profitable
to isolate us
as customers over people

I am the American dollar
to many
before I am a human being.

who decided it to be just
that we sell our needs
heat and air and water
neatly processed each month

who decided it just for
the man holding the valve
to push down hardest on
those already broken backs
how tragic he says
and presses more and more

you can’t convince me
that this is the only way

have you, the battery
been without light
spent nights unsure if
your core would become full

no amount of blind love
for stars and stripes
and red and white
will ever make me feel wanted

when you put a price on living
somewhere that profits
from your slow, uncaring
death.

tell me
what is it like to be a king?

unafraid of the dark corners of this land
regarded highly by it’s passengers
never a stray glance or loose question

i only understand confusion
i was born like this after all
a soul unfortunate enough to want a better hand

tell me
what is it like to be adored?

to have strangers give kindness
invite you into their spaces
the places considered to be safe

i only know of discomfort
with few willing to tolerate me
to give up their status to help
me

tell me
what is it like to live?

my harp is comprised of broken strings
clipped and stripped down bare
each note rings flat and falters
worn tired by every new sheet

you are a shining beacon
shooting through all my shadows
built up over the long years

like an artifact long lost
you polish and shine
until i am golden

i will live every day
under the warmth of
your glowing sun

knowing fully
that i am wanted
and i am loved

are we all doomed to be measured
by not the achievements of ourselves
but those who came before us?

will all of our advancements
and personal betterment
mean much to little in the shadow
of the “golden age” we’ve past?

the apple doesn’t fall far they say
sometimes as a compliment
others as an indictment
as we are creatures of comparison

but the question i poise
is if the apple fell to become
something greater than its origin
because it was fraught with rot

o mother star
bright and elating
how may it be that i
could ever shine
with your strength
your grace
your kindness

o mother star
is it not true
that we should all aim
to live with
a purpose above
only ourselves

o mother star
let me be your champion
your paragon of love
my one truest hope
is to be able to
call the sky my own

o mother star
please lend me a wish
any night of my time
so that i may reach
the heights you've set
so dazzlingly high