My stomach hurts with this conformity
as I'm not really me but a shadow of everyone else.
Playing piano the same way as the pianist;
professionalism guides me to imitation.

I've reached the point where these veins are thick
with someone else's warm blood and now I am sick.
There is an indentation of a wedding band on my finger
though I have never been married
my skin is anticipating the weight it will leave on me.

My womb is ready for five caucasian boys
that all play sports and **** women
a large dog we play fetch with to ignore
the rising temperatures and death in the poles.
Backyard barbeque smoke blends with the pollution
and we laugh and get drunk with the neighbors.
When they leave, my husband and I fight and
he hits me in a drunken rage.

Though in the morning we will wake to a foggy suburb
and drive to the chapel to hold hands in our Sunday best
and thank God for the life we have and beg forgiveness
for the sins that make us Human

Part II
In the sunlight coming through stained glass windows,
I see the reflection of a girl I once knew,
surrounded by untimely, immortal gold,
happiness in places where my wrinkles and tear tracks are.

She is me on another timeline
conformity unable to break her gold aura.
Miine was broken decades prior to this heartbreaking moment.
I let go of my husband's hand and I feel ill.

Tired.

All my life I am tired.

Tired of awaiting the call

tired to wait to be small

Next to another whose tall.

Tired of trying and waiting and doing all my life

in the thrall

of the wait

to challenge the looming debate

and crying my eyes

To sleep.

Too Late.

For time slows to a creep

and winds all my life.

I am tired

and waiting

all my life

to sleep.

Break me,
disassemble me if you must
but build me better next time.
I can’t bare another ill-fitting ego.  
Dancing in these ridiculous shoes
outgrown a decade ago
the idiot grin finally yields
to burning blisters.
Even the dance, spun from necessity
is outdated and awkward
In fact, every dance I see
every silly play, every make-work crisis
clumsy, clueless  conductors
orchestrate tone-deaf symphonies
while we dance our days away.

To be saved for you
Is to be passive,
Your goal to end our complaints,
To put us on a diet, starving on faux saints.
"Be peaceful, don't disrupt our war (and whorin')
Or we'll war against your peace."
So holy, so blameless,
All you want is for such joy
To be endless.
That's why you take from us our feeling,
Our thoughts,
And our choices,
Leaving us in chains,
Funneling us by limits
Created by YOUR taints
Into soul-destroying foyers,
Where time and life may waste.
You think that because you can't control you
That those who can should pay.
Selfish, solipsistic, your so-called love is locks,
Constraints on us to keep us quiet,
Your loving face a feint.
Blank stares you give us when we smile
Without the approval of your code,
All a maze to hide your lying, stealing, using ugly soul.
Shut up! Nothing is ugly! I'm perfect as I am!
Using killing thieving stealing!
Creating pain for generations to come.
All is well and all is equal, evil's well as good!
No consequences to my actions, grin and bear it like you should!
My glimmer proves I'm God's own child,
I use his name in vain, I AM! (be ******)
My smile's worth the price you pay,
So we pretend that we are clean!
Why wash when we can remain the same,
This Perfect Princely Palace
Of Peace and Love and Joy so long,
Clearly nothing here is wrong!
We have the Way, enjoy the fruits! Ignore the offal all around you, I promise you we're true! (and beauty too)
Rhyme and reason, faith and charity, motions you go through,
But nought ever improves.
So what is love if you don't care
Because you're bent on filling pews?
All men are hypocrites, all women liars,
Picking pieces that fill them up with ways to fuel their fire, to fool their eyes and ears and hearts
So they can doll up dogs and parade around desires
Claiming they're Divine.
None are good, all are false,
And every prophet suffers while the rich who seek toward heaven tell them quit your want for something better,
Settle for this trash, it's all we've got. (drink wine)
That's not a cherub's way, He's passion,
Not an old castrated goat
Who ***** the hooves of Shaitan,
Below the vaulted sky
To mewl for his grubby food.
What decency have men left,
What dignity, what shame.
Your lack of caring for those angels you make suffer before your faulty throne
Proves you're the one alone, unworthy of His name.
Next time you critique the critic
Perhaps you should hear him first,
Rather than making every verse you ****** a *****
To excuse your cowardice toward the Word, ye murderers of faith and love and truth.
Remember youth.
Your best be uncouth 'n' open,
Not hiding from the light.
They fight and claw toward heaven's voice,
Not run away in fright
From God's rumbling,
Whining about rough words,
So those selfish faux good demons can send more off a cliff of empty bliss without question,
While they get off on it in vile hubris, a craven's lust for power and control over other souls.
(Learn the Lesson)
So take your hats off,
Show your skin,
Be more honest,
And Let Me In.

She did not know
if she had been cut from birth
or if they had done it to her
when she was just a child,
barely old enough to remember, shrouded
her in the stinking, clingy breaths of obedience
until she had learned
to succumb to the robotics, to finally
trash her emotions,
crush them to ashes.

Perfection was hard to maintain.

go to school
obey authority
follow tradition
join society

go to church
worship god
get married
get a job

pay rent
be responsible
have children
stay faithful

work harder
be productive
rest and silence
are ******, seductive

wear clothes
don’t offend
don’t care
just pretend

act normal
stand in line
grow old
now you die

more collaboration
     than competition
more compassion
     than callousness
more creativity
     than conformity