Tonight's the night
We fight or die
And you can bet
It will be violent
But the aggression
That we have to bring
Is the only chance we have
To make a change.


-
by Aleksander Mielnikow

in my mind
           all i really
      wanted
      was mind enough
         to say no...
                  and yet
as i had knelt...
and as i had pleaded..
     all i could ask for
                                    was ignorance
               and all i could say
          was thank you
                          for all the venom---
                   still
           it
                              feels just
              a little bit sad
                                  i couldn't
  ask for more...
                               more drops
                          by
              drops
wishing
  ­                                wanting
                         ­                                              waiting
                   washing down
       falling



       even deeper






       ever faster
    






                                              ­intoxicating
sating myself more and more in this
scrumptouos feast of more and more
                 and with every single mouthful
i take in
                  my appetite begs for more and more
       yes
                           i am a wolf.
           the lowest of the low
                     in a tripartite soul.
and i can't help
                            but fill myself up
     no matter how much
                  i weigh myself down.
                                      i just want more.
                          more of bullets
       for every single word you say
                  more of icicles
              for every single awkward touch
more of daggers
                for every single glare you look me
                 down with
                                   more of poison
       for every single lie you make me swallow
        forcefully down my own throat saying
        that you've always been true
                                                           ­  more of you...
for every single night i waste
away lying wide awake lying
to myself about not regretting
every sound i taught, trained
my tongue to incarcerate until
you were no longer there to listen
                       more of flames.
        the feeling i get whenever you
         quench my burning aching hunger.
                more of flames
that blazing glimmer i become
when everyone looks at all my
scars with disappointment.
                               i want more of flames.
                     and i just want to burn it all down
along with you.
                  and then
                                   i'd happily engulf myself
     engorge myself
                                  on all our
shared
                     pain
                                                         and
                                misery
     knowing that no one will ever
           knowingly share anything else with me...
                                                                let me bask
                     at least one last supper
in the blissful toxin
                                   of our cannibalism
                   and one last time
                       we'll cast a miracle and
     burn
                               in the gluttony
of our lustful intersuffering
                                                  ­drowning drunk
        from the deathly fermentation
                        of our own flowing blood
              knowing
    we'll never again
                          have to wake up
                 with a killer of a hangover tomorrow.

Growing up sheltered
Is not what it seems
It is full
Of pain
Just like everyone else
We hurt, cry, and hate
Only we have to hide
Desperately hide

Crippling perfectionism
Became my sickness
I had to always be right
Or at least justify my wrong
Because I couldn't
Bear to let them down
Let everyone down
Let myself down

I spent every moment
Full of anxiety
Like everyone was watching
Judging
And to a degree,
They were

This sickness festered
Within my mind
It brought me a pain
That I could not explain
Because nothing was wrong
Except me
Something was so wrong
With me

Quietly, every minor failure
Twisted into hatred
A self-loathing
That started to **** me
And I didn't even see it
Until it was so big
It tried to swallow me

You see, my problems
Rooted so deep
I couldn't even acknowledge them
Because having problems
Meant failure

Now, I, the sheltered child
Sit alone trying to heal
With all of my baggage
That appears so light
In comparison
To that of those who
Had it much worse

So in silence,
I long to feel whole
Fulfilled
Knowing how
But my strong desire for
Rebellion
Won't allow

Meanwhile,
My need to be perfect
Won't let me rebel
Because it would mean
Blaming no one but
Myself
So I can't let it out

I find mediums
To release the angst
Nursing a caffeine habit
Instead of *******
Honestly,
The destructive forces
Within me
Wouldn't mind it
Either way

I refuse to be imprisoned by them;
Formed in a spring of meaning
And specificity;
Then gradually
Sculpted, sanded and smoothed
In the oppressive surf of banality.

Woman. Wife. Mother.
Genius. Fat. Beautiful.
Liberal. Conservative.

I won’t let them
Bend me at the waist
Bow my head
Contort my arms

Define me.

Instead I return to the spring

plunge in

dissolve


emerge



a mist.

The left find themselves
caught in between socialism
and a rebellion.
On one hand,
they wish to grant their government
more power,
when on the other,
they claim they cannot be trusted.
Which one is it?
Time is ticking.

If this world was a ship,
I don't want to be the captain.

I want to be the pirate.

Among our bouts of adolescence
Lies a fire deep, its kindled presence
Enough to start a war on naught
For war was all we ever wrought
Upon this Earth. We yearned to change
Their rules that lie, that rearrange.
We rose to see our efforts fail
And mightiest supporters fell.
So now we lie in iron chains
To rot away whilst our foe gains.
Both pedigree we put to shame
And allies free, who saw us lame.

In years of darkness, brooding thought
Had tortured us. We sorely bought
Our lives away through sundry act
Instead of holding nation’s back:
Oblivious to horizon’s edge,
Unable to see beyond law’s pledge.
Complete with shame, at prison’s leave
We traveled home to sadly grieve
On unjust scars our souls have made.
We left our past to slowly fade…
But still, we lack our rightful place
While sovereigns rule our lives to waste.

Light of the lamp
In my eyes
As I hold tight
And stamp my approval

These are nor lies
But a truth that is brutal
Only to me
As no one can see
Blindness of not being me

Preconceived belief
As the proper pupils
Pave a path
They think their own
But they are not alone

They read another passage
On a piece of paper
Lose their independence
And lose their nature

And so we follow the proper path
The papers we read
Written by one who laughs

So shine that lamp
In my eyes again
I cannot read the proper paper
So the pupils I won’t befriend

We are slaves to the society.
There is no real purpose in life.
It´s made up by the society, so that we can be lured into thinking that we have to settle down with the
same ****
everyday
lifestyle.
And if you do the most harmless "crime",
you will be punished for it.
We are shaped into believing that a spontaneous living
is the worst way of living.
We all dream of a perfect life.
And we hate ourselves, everyday
for not being able to achieve it.
All this because
we
are
afraid
of showing society the true form of the human species.
But we are the society.
So **** us all!

puzzle me this, mr. jigsaw:
when did you cut me down?
why did i step on your block?
if i did, why would i bow my head
and trade my peace to you
to be another piece of you?

i know the rest: i was born dead
and life is what you poured for me
a glass of bitter shackles and a path
of brittle bravery

i walk your walk, i talk your talk,
i wear your shirt across too much gut
and not enough guts

i bob my head to your tune,
my heart beats to your beats,
my addiction is your beast,
the monkey on my back called
fitting in