An autoimmune of a nation,
why are you letting your wrath
stemmed from crisis
burst open like lysosomes?
Why do you digest
yourself and one of your own?
Don't you take pride
when the one who has the same
nation weaved on his skin
uplifts the wavering flag of your land?

Why would you mute
and suppress them
rather than water them,
like the beautiful nature that
blooms from your own ground?
Why would you steal
and harm your brothers and sisters,
letting your mentality succumb
to toxic-narrow confinements?

I have two faces, but I'm not two-faced.. just wait and I'll explain. Bipolar is my mental state.. in which I try to maintain. I'm either up or down, no in-between.. I have the highs and lows. Stressful situations weigh heavy on me.. my mind in need of repose. Black or white, no grey in sight.. not a happy medium to find. It's severe depression, or manic aggression.. or possibly both combined..

Kayla M

It must be beautiful to not be jealous
To just feel happiness
And joy for others
Not that small pain
In your stomach
The little shocks
In your brain
The ache
In your heart

Wealth drips from the fingertips of the rich
They languish in the materialism of the good life
Living out heaven on earth

The rumble of an empty stomach echoes through an alley
***** and homeless, people crawl to their tents
living to starve another day

Flashing lights brighten their already made faces
As they step carefully out of the limousine
Greeting the crowd with a wave, they enter through double doors
Ready to make a dramatic entrance

They sneak a sandwich through their ratty sleeve
As they wander through the convenience store
Desiring the things they cannot purchase
Alarms ring in their arrest

Bubbling champagne fills them with giddiness
Socializing with the friends that stick around for the money
The wealth that you have
And that they want

Waiting for your release
From this empty, pitiful cell
They stare at the wall,
Marked with the days until release into a life worse than before

As they head home, you realize
Is this a life worth living?
With fake friendships
And worthless objects surrounding you

As they uncuff you, you realize
Is this a life worth living?
With poverty at every open door
And no future to look forward to?

They both rush to the brooklyn bridge
Poised for the rush of bone-chilling water to fill their lungs
But as they look out at the city
The bright lights spell out:
The system is broken

i'm always naked
sure, it's beneath my visible clothes
and yeah, when i'm in the shower
and more or less every time i'm home alone
but there are other times
other whimsical nonsensical times
when i'm fully ****
and nobody even notices
when i'm raw
when i expose any facet of my idiosyncrasies
when i fall
when i suppose i'm in pain purposefully
when i draw
when i paint with a purpose to show my sadness and rage
when i write
when i put words to use in the way conversation betrays
people react to ****** in various levels of extreme
some get aroused
some get repulsed
but nobody seems to appreciate the nakedness of my raw mind
completely exposed
full frontal
appreciate it or just don't look

Back in my teenage college years
I was told about “Autistic kids”
Who lived in worlds of their own,
Seeing things through weird and wonderful specs
In social isolation,
Frightening in its completeness.

At sixty six I since have learned about many
Of their “traits”:
Their obsessions, inflexible routines and
Panic
At all change.
Their inability to read
Emotions or social cues
Or innuendos
Or irony.

I have worked with those with Aspergers,
Colleagues, friends and clients –
Indeed with people all over
The Autistic Spectrum.

And the main thing I have learned
In all these years
Is that in my own way…
I am one of them.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\10\2018.

aware of my depravity
pressed down by the gravity
kept down by the havoc it spills actually
it's sweet like a cavity
it'll confront you callously,
it'll tactically relieve you of your faculties

aware of my depravity
seeing how it got to me, seeing how it held hold of me
No plan of letting go of me, feeding me feelings of apathy
my demons parade me, pageantry , steal from me, give me fantasy
somebody send the cavalry, somebody take this pain from me
somebody save myself from me, give me back my captaincy.