if I die,
I know that my eulogy
would be read aloud
by my biological family
with tears in their eyes
and sad, solemn voices.

it’s scary to think
that if I die,
my eulogy would be read
by the same people who
once wished for my death.

I'm awestruck in your presence,
So aware of my words,
Trying to craft the perfect sentence.
It works in theory,
But in practice it fails.

I'm too entranced by your laugh,
Warmed by you words,
Infatuated by your tone,
How could I focus when you jest at my heart so.

It's unfamiliar to me,
The thought that someone could care.
Yet you warm me to it,
As if it's my heart you dare.

I feel open for the first time in a while,
With you I feel the 'myself ' I always used to see.

Just...just the way you giggle...
Makes me bite my lip and hold my tongue,
'Cause I'm still too scared to say it feels like love.

When uh aren't feeling
what you ought to
and stuff that you are taught to
there stands a mess
swirling, twirling, in your head
an  outbreak as stress
that made you bled

When I tried self love
all I got was centeredness
when I tried respect
all I got was harassment
all I got was
all it brought was
the felling that I don't wanna feel
the healing that I never gonna deal

We pretend to show better
we lie to hide bitter
we smile to hide pain
we cry to drain
what that soul needs
what that heart beg for
is not human breed
to untangle

I wanna gift myself
a face with smiles
I want a bookshelf
which gives me my time
but this world
is full of intruder
earth is curled
and so the people are

So the stress is
who jump into intellect
and ****** his
gifts and memoir
and blew it far

When uh aren't feeling
what you ought to  
and stuff uhh ae dealing
isn't the part that you are taught to '
don't let the mess stand
against you
just drop the things planned
by you
and flow with the memoirs
that had been blown far

When uhh aren't feeling
stop dealing with the ought and the taught
else you will be caught....

tension politics
tomorrow we need to vote
we need liberty

Brian Hill - 2020 # 279

It's been 19 years
and America
is still
burning.

The death & destruction
carries on
without prejudice,
hungrily  
taking all in its wake
and leaving sorrowed
loved ones
behind.

Man creates man.
Man destroys man.

The only constant is the earth
below our feet
& our conflict with each other,
from whose blood and ashes
a new one
is born.

When will we wake to see
we have been the masters
of our own terror
all along?

Anger throbs inside me
Like hot stones in the pit of my stomach
Burning and glowing a devilish red
Rage surges at my fingertips
creating hands that burn
Throwing and screaming and crying for hours
No relief from these hot stones
more fists, more punches, more screaming
nothing comes from this rampage
Dignity is lost, rationality is gone
the only thoughts are physical
Madness bunches the muscles in my arms and legs
building tension for the blow
loud clashes heard from afar
and still the hot stones are alive
You can't make me do anything
Go on, hit me
I'll hit you back
and with these hot stones I will not stop
until they are only an ember
a faint light in the darkness of regret

Unnecessary mental stresses are meant to be thrown away like dilapidated shoes.

It's like a catalyst
Where I'm running out of words
Because the words I can't say
Aren't there
It's the
Feeling old while I'm drinking coffee
Feeling young absorbed into a book

Almost feeling me when I
Reach that space
In between

There's a moment staring at the tv
Excited because someone got kissed
Seconds when I write a sentence
Knowing it's nonsense
But there's a pause
And falling to one side
(My back acting up)
(Giggling while I run)

Searching for a domestic peace
Being pushed to the side
Searching for

Growing up
Maybe

It's hard

Tensions that shouldn't exist
Tensions that aren't seen by anyone else
Pulling away in an effort to walk the line
Searching for a balance
In between the tension

It feels like a catalyst