I don't mean to only express myself
Let's turn our gaze outward to something else
Because really, we're nothing
reflections and vapors
our lives seem so long to us then as time tapers
down to the end
it's
getting faster again
and it's time that, my friend
in this time that you spend
looking out for yourself realize your wealth and your life and your thoughts they are
just
so
small.
I'm nothing at all but a freckle of dust
but looking around there are millions of us
there's a picture out there taking shape so we must
have courage and dare to strip off all our lust for
our own affirmation
our self-presentation
must find a foundation in something much bigger than us.
As you cry to be heard pause and listen to hear
for when long you have listened the Light will draw near
and you'll find all the words that you cannot deserve
so please gather the nerve discontent to preserve
And climb outside and point out to the stars over hills
and from you the joy and the knowledge will spill
For expression is best when it's not just for you
My confession is this, let it always be true.

Still, the Roman Catholic Imperial Church hasn't done all it can to atone for
persecuting humanity with their last inquisition, the global mass-**** of mostly
boys, that while more and more supposed christian al-queda do terrorist acts,
still, serial murderers masquerading as cops genocide mostly men of color,
still, newborns are ****** to death in the crib by the remocrat conspiracy's
psychic terrorism, 'the ****', and are also neutered by them, who have said
"they'll turn out to be dems or non-rems", still infancy, toddlerhood, childhood,
teenage and young adulthood years are filled with mass serial: rapings, ******
assaults, anatomical destructions, assaults, attempted maimings, muggings, beatings,
persecution, discrimination, institutional abuses, etc..  Still, 9 months after
hurricane maria tore through Puerto Rico, etc., they don't have restored electric,
adequate food and water distribution, their death toll, according to a Harvard
study, is over 4600, almost 3 times that of Katrina, and the next hurricane
season's upon us.  Still, women's reproductive rights are under constant attack,
assaults on women's health centers have escalated, as has religiously biggoted
attacks on Muslims, etc., while funding for the people's gov't'l safety net has
been drastically cut across the board, still these draconian legislations, outright
eugenics programs, aren't prosecuted by the U.N. as State Agression against people,
as indicated by the Nuremburg Accords, necessitated by ****** having done the same.  
Still, the intelligence, military, police, prison industrial complexes haven't dealt
with mass-****, inequity in prison sentencing, urgently needed prison reform, severe
lack of education of, and availability of lawyers, funds for prisoner's defenses,
the necessary prosecution of the going on two trillion dollar per year intelligence
community for purposefully not preventing the hacking of the elections of 2016, and
thereby being a part of the invisible coup that installed Trumpler, with dinos,
sinos, ginos, ainos, linos, Bernie or bust bots, Assange, wikileaks, global hackers,
Putin's puppets all.  Still Trumpler regularly attacks, denigrates American people,
institutions, the world, continually tears kids from their parents as a supposed
"disincentive", while that's human atrocity, as he continues to mock, be unfettered
by the continuing revelations, indictments, investigations of him, his campaign and
the executive branch he has installed, E.P.A.'s Pruitt, while he illegally weeds out
dempublicans, all who aren't criminal, even firing remocrats who aren't SS enough.  
His latest, his 'fixer' Cohen, getting over a million from navaritus pharma (of
course Trumpler got his cut), because The Facilitator-In-Chief is following pages
from king george (bush **** heavily invested in pharma) and his ****, cheney's
aborted by the people plan's playbook to diagnose, prescribe to most, especially
those mentally less advantaged teens who've been chosen, trained, triggered by the
remocrat conspiracy's psychic terrorism (with a disparaging wink, nod from dinos,
dempublicans), 'the ****', to do terrorist acts in schools, being on the hot seat
instead of Trumpler, and another example of State extreme hypocrisy as well as the
imploding domestic war against everything, especially nature, next generations
(the corp. structure's convoluion's devoluionarey direction vs. the evolution),
as they, merx for more through to mercs for unending unnecessary worldwide war,
cannibalize the future to replicate their past supposed profits, evermore and in
ever more cyclical, centralizing patterns. Is this also how they're assassinating
the future non-rem leaders before they even become adults?  "...We(e),..." need
everyone to speak out, stand, everyday, if not now, then when, if not here, where?

Primrose path
Sprinting sessions
From dark undergrounds
Never leave until unexpected

Admiration
Image collections
Optic characters imitations
Personality as a theatrical affair

Social fluency
Horse and carriage
Stepladder for gnomes
White concrete eclipsing the streets

Cigarettes
Music on Bourbon Street
Caged souls, walking zombies
Poverty weeps the loudest social lie

Existence
Revolving door exit
To doubt linear presence
Historic currency is a cold death

Ideology
Tall buildings
Redesigned inner child
Your snake skin is the verse of life

I can’t get my brain
To shut the hell up.

I don’t want to talk right now. please leave me alone. it isn’t you i
  promise, it’s me and
N othing can stop me from thinking that it’s my fault and
  everything is my fault. why are things this way and why did i
  lose you and my friends? i can’t help but think and
F eel depressed because i love you. i don’t want to lose you but i
  have and i’m not happy, i’m almost never happy anymore. or
  maybe i never was. emotions exhaust me but they’re all i know. i
  don’t usually get angry but when i do i go off and
J ust shut up! you’re wrong, i’m right. why can’t you see that? i
  need structure, it’s how i function and you are so incredibly
  unpredictable which excites me, even if no one knows, because
  that’s risky and i like new adventures but i need stability which
  my life, my existence, can’t provide

because i’m too complicated to make sense,
My life is contradictory

I read you the children's storybooks that your parents sold
and buy you marbles like your old collection
(that one day was no longer there) and
we will sit craning our necks, healing our hearts

we can do arts and crafts projects
(and this time they will be hung up on the fridge)
and I'll double check your room for monsters
and your music box for pills

you have been compressed, ashamedly
for far too long
scoffed at and eyes rolled
if heads do

you are free now, protected and proud
you are safe and sound
join hands, and know that
these new planes of vulnerability keep you strong.

A never ending battle
Between two foes
Both undefeatable
Both bigger than any other
Both capable of immense damage
Over the mind I call my own

Two foes
Fighting for the right
To destroy me
An endless tug-of-war game
The prize being the end of me

One takes the title of anxiety
But is known in many different forms
Vowing to cut me off from the world
By filling me with fear and worry
Hoping only to drive me to insanity

The other titled depression
Priding itself on killing my hopes
Vowing to cut me off from myself
By making me feel worthless
Hoping to drive me to self-hate

Crying, begging with both
To just make some compromise
A deal with two devils
In hopes of lessening their pain
Neither will have mercy
Neither will make a truce
Neither will defeat each other
Nor will they be defeated by any other

Little do they know
By clawing, scratching
At each other to get in my head
They destroy me in the process
Symbiotically they unnerve me
Together they annihilate me
They simply don’t realize
How well they work together
How well they bring me to an end

"He wanted to know about the sycamore tree and seemed to understand exactly what I meant when I told about the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. “It's that way with people, too,” he said, “only with people it's sometimes that the whole is less than the sum of the parts."
- Wendelin Van Draanen, Flipped

Look at me with those hopeful eyes
with the belief that we can make it through lows and highs
walk again with me, you and your untiring feet
you made the past months more complete
let's cross some more bridge together
stay when one needs the other

Lend me your hands and your arms
and I will gladly accept to ease my qualms
For I've learned that hands will just be hands
and arms will just be arms
but they become so much more
especially when comfort and solace are in store

I have not searched but I have found
someone standing on the same ground
Thank you for breaking the trope
and for helping me breathe a brand new hope

Even if there were a lot of people who were far less
In the short time we've spent together,
I can say you are one of the few who are far more...
you are greater than the sum of your parts
you are one beautiful whole

I imagine a therapist office
as they are lavished in on tv shows
and they're not really like that;
instead of a cozy dimly lit office
it's a white wall maze.

As my doctors
are not private ones
and they surely disclose
all about me
to the insurance company.

I can't help, but twiddle my thumbs
and wonder about the
cries for help
that linger on these paisley painted
dry walls--
snickered with inpersonal
portraits of strangers;
that probably wish
they hung in one of those
elegant, brash, and luxurious offices on tv.

Or maybe instead
the paintings longingly wish
to be dead as well--
instead of being
in this subservient storehouse
that is standing in for an therapist office.

Getting up from another stand-in
this rash beast of dull coloured dust;
calling it a chair would insinuate people
are supposed to sit there,
but I assume
it's true purpose is for the ill-ful
to find something uglier than life itself.  

Leaving through another betrayal
that existence couldn't be more lame
is a doorway with the most faux of all possible doors;
it's screaming "nobody ever cut down a tree to make this".

Slipping past another door (eye role)
I come to be in the same room,
but this space is two faultering steps to the left.  
And instead of dust everywhere
it's a mobbish moss melancholy
that distastefully lingers
in my personal office's air.

We danced, the cognate vessels
Nested in walls &
Cowered in blood

We buried love deep into
Beating flesh &
Writhed In Utero

We emptied veins of reason
Laid in torment &
Seceded in white gowns

We--Empiric experiments
We--Deficient devices
We--Thrashing threadbare

We--Womb
We--Woman

--
c