A man is no longer a man
after his forceful penetrance
has left an innocent soul shaken

Having them taste the fear
on their swollen tongues in disgust
Watering their taste buds
and giving the oesophagus an alert
Their eyes being flooded
with natural human salt water
as their hands shake like earthquakes
unable to grip anything
it lays itself on
Their knees numbing
making them tremble
to the dusty ground

With no access of liberation
to the soul
Subconscious sirens sound
like an emergency truck
911, what's your emergency?
"It's the end of the world"
it tells them
Lips hanging down
like water droplets
racing down a window
Inside screams are so loud
but no one can hear it

They can't run
They can't see
The certainly aren't audible

Stress to the head,
a headache occurs
So painful and strong
like like-poles of a magnet;
forceful

There's a God --
he is near; he will
corner you with
your fear.

It's enough.
Don't say too much.
Your differences
are seen as a crutch.

You are my...
American Truth.

Don't put it in...
Please, spit first.

There's a flag --
it is real; it will
wrap around and
claim to heal.

It can't be burnt.
Won't be buried.
The colors are
three and they
are married to
something green;
something strong;
something that
will control you
all life long.

And they will tell
you that it isn't wrong.

And they will tell
you that you aren't
American, you free-thinker.

Not a day goes by anymore where I don't
curse this volatile world for bringing me into it.
I'm angry.
I'm Sad.
I hate everything.
I'm a coward.
And I hate God and all religion.
I'm just an infantile complain-ee who can't seem to feel anything except hate and anger.
I'm over the death and the sadness and the violence of this iniquitous, depraved place we humans call Home.
Everyday, I wake up to the anger in my burning, nauseous stomach and wonder why I have to be such a coward.
Sometimes life is great but then I'm reminded that life involuntarily defecates on everything that matters even a little bit.
I used to pray to your so called God for help
Because it was what one of my friends would have done.
But now I see that even in her time of need, He was gone.
The devout little Christian girl that Christ didn't want to save simply because it would require work.
There is no hope for this manic, putrid planet.
I'm done being nice and pretending that I'm a good person.

two years ago,
i was fighting a monster
from breaking my ribs.

today,
i am fighting an invisible ghost,
from watching me pick up the pieces
that haven’t decayed yet.