#compliance
Your love is complex like trigonometry,
It hurts to feel your sharp, unchanging rules;
I wish that I could read psychometry,
Instead of playing one of your blind fools.
Three angles seem the way to outline you,
A constant shape that shifts where'er we go;
But with plans you ne'er seem to follow through,
Your toxic heart is more like a Reuleaux.
We turn and twist, acute in our despair,
Equations that will never quite align;
Obtuse and blind to all the pain we share,
We cross the axis, passing every sine.
I simply watch our fading symmetry,
We bend and break against geometry.
3d ago
May 31, 2026 at 1:36 PM UTC
I’m now a reflection
and not the source,
lost in compliance
without remorse.
To be a mannequin was not my goal,
a model asked to strut and stroll,
wearing a costume that’s not my own,
and yet here I am through guided choice.
Nudged between the here and there,
arriving without realizing I’m nowhere.
To be fake was thought temporary,
adapting to conform to the obligatory;
though over time I became fully lost
in the role that came with hidden costs.
Accommodations were made to address
the need to mold and to impress.
To be less than who I really am,
this shadow like a hologram,
idealizing the show and not the tell,
replaced reality with doctrine’s spell.
The path back has blurred with time;
only forward is the command of the tribe.
To be has been given to others,
the purpose shifted to gladly suffer.
The voice asks for
the greatest of sins:
a fake person,
just a perfect mannequin.
© 2026. Lynn Green. All Rights Reserved. 20260430.
Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 8:14 AM UTC
I’ve heard their lies. I heard them all.
I read the names carved in the wall.
I saw the soldiers clear the hall
and sort the shoes by size.
I ate. I worked. The day was long.
I learned the nation’s favored song.
I signed my name. I moved along
and left you there in hunger
I went to find the name I sold.
I walked at night between the folds.
and there were phantoms on the road
who died in ash and wanting.
I traded bread, I looked for clues,
seeking victims I could use.
I stole a coat that you would choose
and wore it through the winter.
I spread the map across the ground,
the river bend where you were found.
I knelt beside your fallen gown.
I'd lost my only witness.
I'm taking back my broken life,
my spoon, my tin, my sacred night,
the hand I’ll need to gently write
my song of ash and wanting.
They haven’t found me. Never will.
Footsteps silent. Breath so still
to move through shadows, choose the hills.
A ledger line is there to fill
the name of one surviving.
Jan 11
Jan 11, 2026 at 5:29 PM UTC
Ladies and gentlemen!
Step right up, step right in!
We’ve got deals for your dreams,
Sales on your soul—act fast, this offer won’t last!
It’s happening on Sunday, SUNDAY, SUNDAY!
We’re selling you purpose in bite-sized packets—
One-click, no mess, shipped express to your door.
Swipe right for self-worth,
Streamlined and sterilized,
Shrink-wrap with lies so tight
The freedom will explode out yer eyes.
They package the itch, they sell you the scratch,
A feedback loop of greed for **** you really don’t need
Until the pixels whispered: “maybe you’re incomplete?”
“Hey, no need to worry”, the advertisement assures
An app we’re making just for YOU, madam and/or monsieur!
I can’t help but sigh, and look away
“Another fkn monthly fee? Hmmmm, you don’t say…”
BUY NOW, THINK LATER!
Why wait and feel like trash?
Hurry up and upgrade, ya know, while supplies last?
Planned obsolescence will take you down in a flash.
Just keep’a running, like they’ll always do for your cash.
Your neighbor’s new car gleams like a mirror—
Not to admire, but to reflect what you lack.
Your happiness, monetized and momentarily delayed—
Don’t worry, we’ve got some payment plans for that.
Zero down, zero peace of mind, their hooks sink deep,
Probably looking for bodies, dragging lakes of our sleep
Bought a map for self-contentment, but the route’s under construction,
A platinum premium membership’s the only way it’ll function.
But wait! There’s more.
A lifestyle that screams success—
Filtered faces, curated meals, personalized workouts; THE BEST!
Illusion of choice sold on 118 labels, cleverly selling the same ****
Act now, and FREE for 30 days, you can try new nootropics!
They built the hunger and fed it back to us—
“Don’t be stagnant, don’t be still”,
Won’t be happy, can’t be fulfilled.
In this first world, first in line,
First to implode under the weight of wanting most.
Can’t feel gratitude when ads remind us—
Happiness is only on subscription, anymore.
BUY NOW, THINK NEVER!
They’ve got your thoughts on lease.
Run faster, climb higher,
Consume until you’re deceased!
Fkn, ****** IDIOTS!
They omit to mention, understandably so
Success for them is leaving us in the dark
By that logic it makes sense that they’re “all out of stock”
Self-worth is increasingly getting harder to hauck.
Still we gather, in hopes to support each other in some way
Right here, right now, a never ending ****** Sunday, Sunday, Sunday…
(I wrote this on a Sunday, btw)
Jan 13, 2025
Jan 13, 2025 at 3:02 PM UTC
When I was a child,
I was always told
I must colour inside the lines.
It was told to me
With such conviction
I was fearful to stray
Beyond those lines on the page.
I became quite okay with it then
As I had my colours
And thought little about
What it really meant.
But when I grew up,
I began to question the real purpose
Of those lines that constrained me.
Who put the lines there?
What is the reason for them?
Why shouldn’t I stray beyond them?
The answers came gradually
And two themes prevailed:
You must be compliant!
You must conform!
Like those lines on the page
That I mustn’t stray beyond,
Society draws the lines
To mark the norm.
It is safe inside the lines;
Society is pleased
Because you don’t break their rules.
Are you happy to comply?
Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 6:34 AM UTC
[do you have a suggestion?]
my brother pauses, turning to me;
"because you're full of great suggestions,
but you always say them too late."
he means no harm by it,
yet how do i put a name to this silence?
shutting up in compliance?
—i shoved cotton down my throat,
now i can't breathe—
when did the echo become louder than the scream?
maybe it was vegas, twenty-nineteen.
maybe i was never allowed to dream.
how do i speak my voice back into existence then,
when i can no longer remember its sound?
whispers, snuffed out so many times i've lost count.
[i forget.]
Jan 13, 2022
Jan 13, 2022 at 11:24 PM UTC
Push me
Pull me
Shape me
And mould me
Invent me
Destroy me
Create me
Lie to me
Pack me
Wrap me
Seal me
Deliver me
No matter how hard
You try
No matter how much
You hurt
I will always shatter
Your image
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 12:00 AM UTC
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
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC
#
Floating brazier spews electric amber waves
as a setting sun radiates on the ceiling
a shadow of a ship coquettishly sways
while in the center charybdis begins swilling
another message, another missed call
another debt collector and his esurient talk
watch the ship begin to swirl, this scene so banal
amber feathered tawny eyed peacock
continues furtively to scroll her story and shoe shop
crowded room with a panel onstage
reality and fantasy evaporate and fall as a single raindrop
drown in the muck, don't know how to disengage
and to stay in the sway of fantasy.
#
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
Many acts of generous offerings
Tender words of helpless mutterings
Expressing in words
Show of kindness
Didn't dismiss of a warm compassion
All have returned of pure compliance
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
the stones are thrown
the flock transforms
from sheep to wolves
to eat their own
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 7:09 AM UTC
no more
i can't do it
you can't understand
how much strain i put on my mind just to make you happy
and in the end
you only make.......
see?
i'm afraid to even say how i feel
on a poem you may never read
because if you do
you may find out
and resent me
that is much like our conversations
filtered again and again
watching my every word
just
to
make
you
happy.
i'll do it a million times a day
and yet it doesn't make me feel any better about myself.
no more
i can't do it
i'm willing to do anything for you
that doesn't mean i should.
if i did what i should;
would i let you do what you want,
much like the incubi of my past?
would i silence myself,
just to hear a bittersweet sentence from your mouth?
would i sacrifice my time, my precious time, which i had promised for life's responsibilities?
no. but i don't do what i should, so it's okay.
or is it?
...
no more
i can't do it
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 8:49 PM UTC
Looks have never been so piercing before
Whispers have never been so loud before
You try to step back, submit and comply
Until one day you comply no more.
And after some time you'd want to break the silence
Only more and more fingers to point your defiance
Well what do they know more than what they have been told
Silence is golden, your perfect alliance.
They love you and hate you
Will own you, asphyxiate you
Disregard and deny you
And well still not know you.
You've never opened up, despite how many times they knock
You have had your achievements and you’ve had your block
They worry you no more they are a stupid flock
Still, you stay amused, they are your laughing stock.
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 9:02 AM UTC
I'll lie here and pretend
You're still in love with me
A quiet charade
That you believe I believe
I'll pretend I'm not ignored
And revel in silence
That I never asked for
Try to win you with compliance
I don't trust my defiance
I don't believe in myself
I can't catch you
Can't win you
Can't cry out for help
I'll act like I'm happy
Fake like I'm not alone
Won't act sappy
Won't change the tone
I'll keep it clean, keep it sweet
Keep fears hidden deep
You won't hear a sound, won't hear a tweet
I won't be the one to speak
I won't push you away or be the one to end it
Cause I'm dying to be near you
I won't write it, won't send it
Because deep down I fear you
I fear you leaving
Fear you running
Fear you cleaving
Fear me being lost
What's the cost
Of speaking out
Against the silence
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 6:53 AM UTC
A Baltic atoll nigh
I am but a giant
of enlightenment
as I've been both years
here yet develop
strep in tears despair
days that might
stay when I came to
love our being still
mystery now season
in newly gotten wiles
only there to impress
a red rover machine
and target afresh
dreamscape by canal.
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 5:23 AM UTC
White skin
Black blood
Devil's curls
Eyes that pierce
You couldn't pick me from the crowd
And say that I was black
But I'll be **** sure, you're aware of that
I've got a chip on my shoulder
With a furrowed brow
And vendettas whispered from the graves
Silence was compliance
Now I'm screaming loud
Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
These hot Summer days
I wake up condescending
the ticking clocks.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
We’re all slaves
To a fluorescent screen
Forgetting to search
For our personal being
Accepting stillness
Embracing a mold
Forever doing
What we’ve always been told
Nothing is new
Repeating the past
Creating things
That’ll never last
So we sit and stare
Blank as can be
No longer looking
For what we can't see
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC