I let go of control.

On one side are past traumas
The other side the audience
There's a mountain to explain, and attention spans are razor thin
So to cut the message across, brevity I'm told is key
You hold on to the edges of your seat
And I'm hiding behind me
The 'Me' is just a shell, inside it stuffed with things
conformity, smiles, fear of being judged
There's ego, pride and shame, illusion of control
and so the story goes:
there was pain, there was hurt
there was heart, and there was love

What's control
If not a need for love to show
Bring it up, blow it up
Nothing's ever good enough

Look at me so I can be free
It's the only way I know how to be me
If there is no mirror,
How can I see clearer?

Hold me tight, save me from
my inner fight
On my own, I just drown
every night.

I curse and swear
Light candles and **** away
But it never goes my way
So I keep putting on a play.

and when he told me
he’d **** himself if i left,
a part of me believed him.
a small stupid part of me,
foolish, young and naive,
wanted to believe that i’d meant that much
that the lack of my presence
would make his blood run cold,
leaking into the creases of the bathroom tiles.
if i left,
and he killed himself.
his blood would be on my hands
but unlike my blood on his,
this time it would be metaphorical
but would feel so much worse.

It’s amazing how an addiction, can grow,
Taking over the human mind, cell phones, televisions,
Computers, the largest ever, to attack, the human race.
Think about the past, television, was totally free,
They start to sucker you in, then they say, cable & satellite,
You pay a fee, there will be no commercials on your TV?,
Your water or gas bills, at your home, you pay for what, you use,
Everyday, to put things in prospective, your television, and sewer,
They charge what ever they want, for waste, no meter, that’s,
Twenty four hours a day, if your home or away. Then they took,
Over the cell phone business, the same people, if not, their bed partners,
How else could they, sync everything together, without your permission,
Any time, on any day? The make many think the cell phone is what,
Keeps them alive, many would be totally lost, with no screens to stare,
At, just for the average person, many hours, in one day.  Vacations,
Use to be a getaway, relax, Leave the phone at home, no way.
People store, more personal information on their phone, than,
They would discuss, with their best friend on any day,
It’s sad, to think humans trust, strangers, more than people,
Close to them, and pay them, and they have no responsibility,
If all of your information was stolen away. Many people,
Can share a home, car, even a pet, mind control,
Share a cell phone, no way!

The Original: Tom Maxwell © 02/11/2024 A.D.

Lay upon the asphalt of your tender life.
Where is your OK line?

Does it fall straight or
Wander like a rivers ebb?

Does your OK line look away from Native children
forced to give up their language
with a safety pin in their tongue?

Does your OK line conform blindly with false prophets who seek control
making it easy
for you to turn away
   from suffering?

My OK line seeks parity,
self-determination,
and soothing
With my voice and images
that will never be silenced in a democracy
but could be sold to the highest bidder in a dictatorship.

Silence kills
and you suffer less
believing you are somehow more disserving.
You are as equal
as the stone stuck in the sole of your shoe.
We all hurt the same.

Remember discomfort
is equal for all.
That's the OK line.
Stone, thorn, blade
and heart.
Bleed, red
but bleed less
in the company
of a battling generation
who votes the OK line
For freedom
of choice
Until our last breath.