Words no longer coming to my head
Fingers no longer able to hold a pen
Hands no longer able to type
My skill flown away
Losing my mind
Losing my hope
Losing my happiness
Losing everything
Slowly
Going
Crazy

Someday you'll figure~
You'll figure out that I love-
That I love you so~

Programmed ideas, words begin to echo AI — quiet intelligent;
in a realm where outsmarting will take you out; once you
outshine those above you; you define the term of being so Anti.

Anti the world, where courage is deemed too bold — keep those
ideas to yourself, shave off the top – be bald. Even as you try to
say things so daring, that if feels like a bold choice; speaking your
mind won't be so clear without an influential voice.

Your existence seems tangled and wild; so out of order —I question
if a miracle isn’t served, would I question an angel for missing
the order. And if to not adhere to good people's orders, this very
breathing would feel like a crime — every moment caught up in
life would just be a show of Law and order.

But I doubt you’d excuse my aura for being so out of order –
we often craft justifications to the world’s chaos, as a service
to uphold a semblance of some order.

My writing creates

order, but I also see --


more and more chaos.

You are a tremendous overthinker
that's for sure. Taking a person like
you on.. with all your chaos
is no small task.
  In order to do that,
I have to take care of myself..
in order to keep from being
pulled down.. or pulled into
your chaotic whirlwind.
  So I create parameters of protection
through my words sometimes
when we talk.

You are not an easy person to take on.

  There are few people in the world
that are even able to truly take on a person
like you, within any kind of depth.
  That is how chaotically traumatized
the inside of your whole beautiful
body is. And somehow you take it
personally when I try to bring
structure in,.  as though you're three
years old,
  and you take regular grown up talk
  as being some kind of threat.
  But.. you are fragmented  and ripped
to shreds on the inside  by those
who truly brought harm
instead of good when you were little.  
  From that place inside of you, a
anything feels like judgment.
Anything feels like it's trying to control you
or put things inside you.

I know that.. and I still love you

  Loving a person in your condition
requires a certain level of self protection.
It's like I have to tie a
special rope around myself when I
jump into your world..  so I can be
pulled back out.
  For me..
The structure of my own words are that rope.
  It is the only way I can love you deeply
and enter into your absolutely broken world
  Please try to understand..
even though it scares you..

Just how much I need that

  If you are able to do that,
then I think you might even be able
to actually love me.
I did not come to steal,
or control..
  .. or fix

I came to be there for you

within all of your broken chaos

When does life get fair?
How long does it take to dare
To wake each day and take the chance
That today is the day, life will become the Dance

We're born into a chaotic world
To parents that know not what to do
They do thier best to raise us up right
But this world sure gives them a fight

We grow so fast, our parents can hardly keep up
First an infant, then a toddler,  soon a child, growth like a pup
We begin school, elementary to start
Twelve years go by like the beat of a heart
Teenage years start and pass as our parents continue to try
To catch the years that pass by them at the speed of light
Next thing you know, we Graduate from high school , move out, and start our own plight

Our parents watch us as we grow from infant to adult
And they marvel at the people we have become
Remembering the days we played horseyback on the floor
Next thing they know, we're out the door

We find that special someone, get married or not
Have children of our own, the cycle begins again on the spot
We remember what we've put our parents through, then
We're always on the phone asking for advise about when

Our children will follow the milestones we did
We depend on our parents as babysitters to our kids
They're our advise givers and our best friends and they forgive
Grandparents they become after a full life lived

Our children grow as fast as we did
We try so hard to keep them as a kid
Maybe, someday, Grandparents we will be, early or not
Only time will tell, time is what we got

Life as we know it has changed once again
The time has come for our parents time to end
We spend as much time as possible before the end of thiers
Knowing in our heart of hearts, They'll soon see those glorious stairs

They will rise from this chaotic world
Up to Heaven and join God's fold
Relief from pain and peacefulness awaits them on the other side
We watch them go, only along for the ride

Someday peace comes to us all
Family gone before us standing tall
Within the Pearly Gates we will be
Our Savior Lord Jesus Christ with thee
And someday walk hand in hand from this chaotic world
To the best place we could ever be

No more pain, no more grief, no more chaos, we are free
The Golden Gates of Heaven we see
We leave behind a precious few, Knowing that someday, they will be with us too

we pick at the healing
tissue and it starts to
bleed just when the
wounds were
beginning to heal

we then go back in time
it starts us on yet another
harrowing journey of 
body spirit & mind

we try so hard to read
between the lines
that blur the harder
we try, blending what
can only be seen
through unfiltered eyes

(scales removed to see
the only Light that can
truly make manifest)

all we can do is smooth
out the edges and
touch-up unclear vision
with our patented
Photoshop Human Sheen

thinking we can reveal
what is holy in the
spiritually null & void
obscene

we have learned to
incorporate what order
we make of chaos into
a well-oiled
smooth-running
Rhetoric Machine

made from blueprints
of someone else’s
self-ordained dream