When will this suspicion
Go into remission?
Splitting like nuclear fission
Is their miserable mission
So they poke and ****
Claiming I'm a fraud
Thinking they're my god
Which seems kind of odd
Because they know so little
And I know so much
I play them like a fiddle
Then eat them for lunch
For when it comes to raging rhetoric
I prove myself to be the better *****

They turn suspicious
So I become vicious
And treat them like *******
Because all of their wishes
Are of being capable witches
So they can morph me into a frog
Maybe then I'll hope on their log
And live the limited life they want
But they'll always tease and taunt
So my sensitive secrets I'll flaunt
To disarm their negative notions
Yet that's a never ending ocean

We live in a world of suspicion
With a hatred ignition
We live in a world that's a prison
A world that's sad to envision
Where everyone's a guard
And everyone is charred
By the judge
Who throws sludge
At the fragile mirror
To make hatred clearer

We must break the lawyers' locks
And sell their suspicious stocks
For when we fear one another
We don't hear one another
Communication goes
Suspicion grows
That's the flow
While we sit in our vaults
Hoping that this halts
But it never stops
In a world of cops
A world that's continually turning
While suspicion keeps burning

A thought that comes so sudden

Like a stranger unpleasant

Who knocks at your door

and barges in before you say, No

Why was it let in without resistance.

Why were you stupefied by its appearance

What made you so afraid that you watched helplessly while it settled in.

Maybe the intruder was not a stranger but someone you had seen earlier.

Someone you were afraid to encounter

and wished would never come so near.

Helped by your fear, this intruder dictates your behaviour and enslaves you further to become your master.

This intruder is Suspicion and none other.

An undesirable thought when allowed to register will feed on your fear and soon become a doubt that is difficult to clear.

Save yourself from being ruined by this intruder, whom Suspicion we call here.

What does it say
When being happy
Worries me?

What does it say
about me
When being happy leaves me concerned
that the worst is yet to come

The bitter sting of winter's singing howl
Drives me to seek some deep and darkling place
Far from the blizzard's scorn, the wind's embrace,
Far from the beasts who bear its brunt to prowl
In search of prey. I'll clutch close to my cowl
And cloak, beneath which hides a younger face
Than most foresee. The forecast yields no trace
Of hope for safety 'pon the road. No foul,
My fellow traveler, don't fear from me.
I'll lay my knife down well before we meet,
Before we each choke down a share of ***
Or what would pass to warm camaraderie;
I know not where I've passed, to where I've come;
I simply beg a place to warm my feet.

Every day the news screams
"***** VICTIM,
AGE
NAME:    
PLACE_"
Underneath
The description of what happened.

Some people take note,
Others read it out of pity
sometimes concern
very few take action

I am nothing more then a jellyfish
Reading the news every day.
Clicking my tongue in pity.

Pity?
We don't need pity.
We need awareness.
Action.
Movement.

I won't try to poison your ears
Telling you lies
As if I'm a victim of assault
or harassment
I won't tell try to earn sympathy
telling you I know someone
who experienced that
someone close to me
I don't

But I hate that feeling,
walking down the streets
worried about every single person behind me
Terrified they might be a potential attacker.
I hate worrying, about my friends
Who are just outside for a few minutes
And yet have to be careful?

This is
Blasphemy.
Why must we be careful?
Is it due to our genitals?
Is that the ONLY REASON?
It angers me

"You know better!"
I would rage silently at the news
It has no effect,
never will
never does
If I just keep my thoughts

As thoughts.

Total irrational fear, I’m
Haunted by noises and
Interred by the
Rumble belly, *** tightening,
Twitchy eyed, false alarms that
Evolve into conspiracy theories,
Even though I love every single
Nonsensical asinine fear factor…ish

Falling is now a favourite.
Eleven other aversions form a line and
An extra number comes to mind (and with it comes ‘Whoa’)
Reset the clock to zero!
Stride on, wipe your feet, step off.