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Ylzm May 19
constantly confessing sins
      never knowing forgiveness
like a man with a book
      but unable to read
or a fool hoarding gold
      and dying from hunger

enslaved to the pride of life
       the measure of men
of winning and success
      compelled to boast
the works of one's arms
      flaunting wit, or foolishness

but oblivious to the exposure
      of their nakedness and vulgarity
of pain and confusion
      of faith in their strength and wit
of the Mark of Man
      on their arms and foreheads

believing by strength of will
      what is given and not by works
the soul betraying the flesh
      in double mindedness and hypocrisy
seduced by free will
      but enslaved to another's will

but the further apart,
      the more fervent
to execute the command
      to impose commands
on their neighbours
       when the only command is love

by the measure they measure
      they are measured
for they have become
      the enemy they condemned
and judgement is just
      for evil judges evil
I have no perspective, I
bring nothing new.
I absorb everything, I
am pressed to consume.

I consume. They press me,
to consume me, to imbibe,
to savor the flavor of
the fruits to their labor.

I'm impressed you haven't
yet guessed my game correctly.
(. . .rebranding. . .)
I'm impressed you haven't
yet guessed my game.

If I'm alive, then we're ******.
If I die, then you're ******.
Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.
These days, the sun sleeps against
a wistful twisting of violet blue.
Pretention? Brake pad. You
told me that
my cadence is lyrical,
so, which is it, Mister?

I know myself to hell.
The mistake I keep making
is letting another tell
me they know me
just as well.

I mean, maybe.
I mean, maybe.

-- though, the more often you say it,
I can't help but think that the odds
come up in your favor ever less.

I know myself to hell.
The mistake I keep making
is letting another tell
me they know me
just as well.
wistful
Papa sat
on his porch
smoking cigarettes.
Papa sat
on his porch
drinking black coffee.
Papa sat
on his porch
watching history
repeat itself.

Would he have lied
about this life?
What did he do?
Do I care?
He's dead. He's done.
He's my black bread.

Would he have lied
about this life?
What did he do?
Do I care? Do I care?

Papa said,
Don't lie.
Don't ever cut your ties
on accident, with some
accidental psychosis.
Kid, know your mind.
Kid, live your life.

Papa said,
Don't break.
Don't snap yourself in half
folding for other eyes,
Please,
Keep living, Kid.
Learn to bend.
I do regret my mistakes,
can't let my regret take away
my drive to do great things.

I do strive for steady strides,
can't let my impetus subside
behind the crashing waves.

I do regret my mistakes,
can't let my regret steal away
my drive to correct myself.

Oh, baby, I
have so
very many
mistakes
to fix, to mend
the marks
on display,
I'll start
with the one who

made the
mistakes.

I will bridge the past
to the future and I'll use
the present as the sling
with which I'll send my self.

I'll be great.
You wrap around
me, like a fog.
Haze of bitter
sweet miasma.
Smothering.
Smothering.
No one
worth your time
will give a ****,
honey.

No one
worth your love
will give a fight,
baby.

Learn your personality.
Learn humility.
Work on the flaws.
Defend your deepened heart.

No one
worth your time
will give a ****,
lovey.

No one
worth your art
will give a fight,
child.

Deep and directed,
do. Those deep
in the win or the lose
will see you
taking a tragic loss,
but you'll know.

And that's enough!

Oh my good ness
he/she, how ee gonna be?
God Almighty, shot
me, now I fall like lightning.
The mass effect
best keep you ***** earth low --
so make them fail:
haul all of your mines tow.
Anyone want a piece of this?
The more you *****,
the more I'll **** --
Home court, that's how it goes,
but on my court
you switch your roles.
Is the first base defense
another defensive pretense?

Duh.
Reject
logic & respect
empathy --

expecting delivery,
goods given,
same goods returned.

I wanted to
merge into you,
the first sight
of your face.

Still do.
Still do.
I still do.
I still ******* do.

I want to
fall
into you.
This happened before.
Your eyes. Your world.
Your lust. Your lies.
This happened before.
Your heart. Your hurt.
Your best. Your worst.
This happened before.
Your taste. Your scent.
Your loss. Your win.

One could say, I have a taste
for the familiar.
Grace, is still waiting alone,
for me to see my mistakes.

but

I see the shapes.
I see the forms.
I dip my toes in the destruction.
I fail, to be reborn.
Circus Who Cares
arrives by night, places
fliers in torchlight.

Circus Some ****
riding train. Look
where graffiti is facing.

It's true, tracks can divide.
John Hughes marketed lies.
It's true, it's difficult --

But in this cult, none of us
wants to be you.
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