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Andrew Rueter Feb 2019
There was a glorious mix
In 2006
When King Xerxes started ******* with Gerard Butler
By sending his empire’s army
Until that one dude threw a spear like Jay Cutler
Xerxes cheek he was harming

You want land and water? You better stop talking ****
Before Gerard Butler kicks you down the big *** pit
That’s in the middle of our city with no hand rails
Because we believe that caution is where man fails

Gerard Butler will beat all the *****
Of the Persian masses
In a narrow passage

They needed help
To protect themself
The Arcadians are total *******
But they make a fine mess of things
So they caught the immortals looking
For a Spartan death sting

There’s an obese guy with swords for arms
He doesn’t mean anything to the plot
His fellow soldiers are the only ones he harms
He’s just an interesting thought

Gerard Butler wouldn’t let that ugly ****** in his squad
Because he was so flawed
So he pulled a lever and his ties were severed
So the Persians would be better
May that ******* live forever

They proved a god king could bleed
And screenwriters don’t history read
Because that **** is for Athenians
Who like to focus on dreaminess
And not being badass
Or wearing dope masks

So thank you Zack Snyder
After blunt met black lighter
My eyes got smacked wider
In a land where abs are tighter
Thanks for reading my 300th poem. Very proud of all my work even this one. Thanks to anybody who has read anything I’ve written, I understand how many entertainment options are out there so even one view of my poetry is a huge honor. Thanks for the support.
Andrew Rueter Feb 2019
People live on the ground
That’s not where I’m found
My head is up in the clouds
Looking down on the crowds
Circling round and round
Until they slowly drown

The vertigo
From the hurt I know
Punches my nose
Crunching my bones
Snuffing like snow
My candlelight glow

I’m the saddest here
In the stratosphere
Where only bad appears
But I say status clear
To my static peers
Avoiding cactus jeers

An airplane’s
Scare game
Shares blame
For spare pain
In my bare brain
Ensnared in shame

So the sky is my home
That’s why I’m alone
Up high and unknown
A guy on his throne
That flies over tombs
That hide all their bones

I can see space
In front of my face
Slowly erase
The Earth’s trace
And God’s grace
As I waste

I’m floating away
Hoping I stay
Stoking a flame
Choking in waves
Of water that rains
Until I’m insane

I can’t hear love
I can’t hear God
I steer above
To see I’m a fraud
No one will applaud
The hovering flawed
Andrew Rueter Aug 2017
You struck me in mid-flight
With a face lit by dim light
Your hair that didn't care
Flowed like the time we shared
But we fell prey to accidental accidents
Because of your taxing mental acumen
Yet I chose to see through a cute lens
When you spat acid like aliens
More specifically xenomorphs
For a career course
That endeared divorce

Everything was an accident
A train wreck to be precise
Take to the extreme extent
When you saw love in my eyes
Andrew Rueter Apr 2019
I experience immobilizing aches throughout my life
I experience headaches
That make me not want to think
I experience stomachaches
That make me not want to move
I experience heartaches
That make me not want to feel
All of these aches steer me away from living my life
And the only aspirin is living that fleeting life as I veer off course
Andrew Rueter Sep 2018
From addiction
To eviction
Feral diction
Barrels fiction
Heralds friction
Searching for money
The days aren't sunny
Reflecting light
Deflecting sight
Detecting might
Inventing rights
Respecting fright
Yet dissecting plight
Won't cause a fight
For the needle holed
Beetles show
Fetal glow
Being low
Seeing no
As their blow
To the flow
Of the snow
Turning hearts to stone

To beautiful
A visceral
Scissor fold
Bitter hole
Withers souls
Of imbeciles
In the scold
Of the old
Who whine
Speed signs
Feed lines
Seen by
As lies
They don't abide
So they divide
Into demise
Until the flies
Eat them like fries
After days they despise
Give them a fatalist prize
Andrew Rueter May 2019
I admit fault

All I can say
Is I’m sorry I swayed
During the fray
I swerved in your lane
I could’ve said it was rain
Or my brakes were restrained
Instead I accept blame

I was once rear ended
By a peer who pretended
I purposefully meant it
Like my car was rented
So I became the defendant
Against the non repentant
My heart couldn’t be mended
From my trust being dented

So I admit fault
To close the vault
Of paranoid salt
For confusion to halt
Andrew Rueter Oct 2019
You’re my afterburn anchor
your array askew
alike an abnormal apparition
an affecting avalanche
asked to dance
with an atom ant.

Size is relative
to the hell you give.
You aggressively grow
in my mind
I shrink in size.

I feel your essence
weighing down on me
like an anchor in my cognition
scraping the bottom of my brain
kicking up dirt from the trenches.

in space
I find a black loop-
hole and crawl inside
to find the avarice
of imagination.

A fantasy develops
where a disciple
stands before God
and is treated as an equal.

A reality develops
where a heretic
stands before God
and is punished for living in a fantasy.
Andrew Rueter Sep 2017
You float through air that doesn't care
The air you share that isn't fair
The air that makes me think we're a pair
I wound up in your wind tunnel
Not understanding it's singular funnel
When you were there
I glided through air
But then you had to fly
As I fell from the sky
Cursing your absent kind

You swept me off my feet
With your tornado broom
Until you were complete
In sealing my doom

Your wind carries loneliness
With a scent of love
I recognized the phoniness
In the flight of doves

Your hypnotic breeze
Put my mind at ease
Until you began to tease
Whispering wild winds into my ears
My hurricane head hammered with fears
Of the intensity of the high velocity
Of your elemental wind monstrosity
For it brings powerful gusts of sorrow
When it's your oxygen I must borrow
If I hope to see tomorrow

Your air is cold
My heart's not bold
And begins to fold
Under the weight of your wind
My mind is giving in
And my eyes start to make clouds form
When your absence creates a lonely storm
Andrew Rueter Aug 2017
Every night I die in an airplane
Beads of sweat fall like rain
Every night I die in a plane crash
I wake up feeling like plain trash
Because every night my plane dives into the ocean
I can't believe the virtual reality of the motion
All my friends and family are there
I watch them drown
Leaving me marooned at sea
The river Styx of my dreams
I wake up marooned at bed
Swimming in a sea of sweat
None of my friends and family are there
And my adrenaline nightmares keep me scared
Because if I fall asleep
It's a nosedive I reap

Every night I die in an airplane
Why is this image so ingrained?
Every night I die in a plane crash
Pressure crushes me to plain ash
Because every night my plane flies into a mountain
The passenger's blood fills my eyes like fountains
All my friends and family are there
I watch them burn
Leaving me stranded in the hills of hell
Until I understand the pills too well
I wake up stranded in bed
Buried in an avalanche of sweat
None of my friends and family are there
And my reality has begun to tear
When I keep dying in my dreams
My mentality rips at the seams

Every night I die in an airplane
Why must my mind be so untame?
Every night I die in a plane crash
And my life becomes a plain flash
Because every night my plane flips upside down
As my useless body is tossed round and round
All my friends and family are there
I watch them get mangled
Leaving me to die at high speeds
With corpses that profusely bleed
I wake up dying in bed
Flipped face down in a pool of sweat
None of my friends and family are there
I begin to wonder if they even care
Because I watch them die every night
It makes me love them more
Because I watch them die every night
My life becomes a chore
But there's nothing for death to reclaim
When I'd just cross over to another plane
Andrew Rueter Jul 30
One strike from the air should be considered one airstrike
yet here in America we conflate air raids with airstrikes.

We say one plane dropping one bomb is an airstrike
but five planes dropping twenty bombs is also an airstrike
obfuscating the definition of the term
to lessen its rhetorical effect
and the statistics of our shady war efforts.

In terms of airstrikes we should count every explosive munition
because on the ground people are dealing with individual impacts
but our imperial aerial view makes it look like just one big explosion.
Andrew Rueter Nov 18
There exists an area between hurt and healed called scarred
it's a place that isn't found—but revealed
tectonic plates protecting the core
my vibrating feet split the earth
forming my fault of separation
passive plains give way to cliffs and valleys
your seismograph detected  tremors
so you escaped to safer ground
outside my sightline from inside the trench emerging
memories are all I need to dig deeper
so remembrance goes through a grainy filter
glorifying the other side of my grave of grime
engendering assumptions of purity lying
beyond the fresh dirt door
where the undead hold their light sticks and disco *****
creating light without illumination
I stumble into them like a moth at night
bumping into the last vestiges of light
they say multiplying two negatives equals a positive
but this whole keeps going deeper
we just acclimate to the depths
making a competition of going furthest down
excavating our descent by expanding the division in the land
until magma erupts
lighting the voluminous pit
revealing the hell we've dug
trickster shadows dance along the sides
hypnotizing the feral demons staring
slack-jawed at the empty canvas of the cave walls
attributing the beauty of what they've missed to ghosts
telling ourselves our horns make us unique
until the lava starts burning us
as a reminder of humanity
continuation ensures incineration
yet this cavern has become my home
after convincing myself I belong here
so everybody hysterically huddles together
to protect themselves from the consequences
oozing from the pressurized center
I squeeze to fit into the middle of the crowd
putting bodies between myself and the nothingness that awaits
watching fellow spelunkers burn
while hoping the inevitable doesn't reach me
the liquid flame consumes my carcass
there's so many directions to fling the fire in
but I benignly accept my fate
knowing this is all my fault.
Andrew Rueter Sep 2018
Scientists made a discovery fundamentalists don't consider great
The universe expands and contracts at the exact same rate
So we live the exact same fate
In an infinite state

The white light at your death and birth
Are one and the same
So with the rhythmic rotations of Earth
We play a counterclockwise game
Of repeating in vain
This wondrous maze

The theologians needed a recovery
From this revelatory discovery
So they formulated an alternate reading
To the biblical teachings
To continue preaching
And lost soul reaching

They say Jesus is the equality of man
And God is the impact of love on this land
Satan is the other side of love's demand
Guiding hatred's hand

So to hear God
Is love's nod
And ****
To bond
While to properly follow Jesus
Is to forgive those who beat us
For they'll be a fetus
Once the future leaves us

Heaven is the state of being in love
So when your soul floats above
You'll return to the one
Who fills you with fun
But you must live righteously
Rather than divisively
To plant the seed
Of immortal glee

Babies go to purgatory
Being murdered for the
Infinite story

David is aggression
Judas is regression
Hell is the oppression
Of living in depression
With no one for confession
Private problems become obsessions
Forever learning painful lessons

The apple of knowledge
Is the invention of college
For the intellectual solace
We're insignificant mollusks

The theologians surmise
Our demise
Will be from our loss of faith
Which will bring a dark weight
To those with unclean fates
Filled with hate
Repeating slates
The theologians plead
To join their pious breed
To avoid endless punctures
And gain godlike structure
For living an examined life
In the land of strife
They can plan the fight
To get you through nights

They say the Bible uses fiction
To convey truth
To cure our addiction
Of being uncouth
And the deformed
Should be warned
That those unmoved
Will live in a tomb
Of eternal doom
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
Andrew Rueter Sep 2018
They're evil and edgy
Partisans pledging
Communal wedging
Without hedging

Alt right
Salt might
Halt flight
Until whites
Are the blight
Exploding heights
Out of sight

An extremist
Screams this
Dream wish
Of king fists
Being dished
To the fish
In his own aquarium
His subjects daring him
To callously bury them
If they are married men
Because they carry dems
So a way to parry then
Is to say they shouldn't wed
By having them condemned

Minds frozen still
Imposing will
Exposing ill
Intent to ****
For dollar bills
Expect the shills
To get their fill
In their royal mill
With soil drills
Of oil spills
On toil hills

They're usually uneducated
Which can't be understated
And can't be underrated
They're the ones that say it
With pride and hatred
Until we're berated
And never related
While those in the dark
See them as marks
To create sparks
That feed sharks
And bleed hearts

When ends justify means
They fight and scream
As a way of blowing off steam
Keeping others from the American dream
No matter what their character seems
They see people as being on teams
And hate those not part of their scene
Which they call a grass roots movement
But the grass hasn't seen any improvement
Only the doom sent
By the hollow gloom vent
Of our atmospheric dent

A torchlight
Of foresight
Affords light
In sore nights
To ignore slights
Before fights
Implore bites
Of more plights
So I store fright
With all that is trite

Yet fear is their motivator
And their mode of behavior
Searching for a savior
Of the Caucasian flavor
To be their maven slaver
To lead the craven players
To their haven layer
On the simple surface
That can be purchased
Until we live in a furnace
And the planet's a dirt pit
For fascism we flirt with
Our country turns worthless
Andrew Rueter Feb 2018
We revere our ancestors
Becoming their protectors
Because they're remembered
With a golden scepter
Yet they're only infectors
Through outdated lectures

If you examine history
It doesn't take too long
To unravel the mystery
Our ancestors were wrong
They sing a siren's song
Of tradition
As redundant repetition
They sing a tribal hymn
Of societal sin
That fools fall in
Until we're walled in

If you want to meet our ancestors
Go to North Sentinel Island
They'll turn you into a rejector
Or **** you where you stand
The last island of savages
It's barely inhabited
Due to its low population
And the fact that its inhabitants are barely people
There's further obfuscation
When they can't differentiate between good and evil

Two fishermen drifted toward the village
Not to ****** and pillage
They had haphazardly fallen asleep
And temporarily lost control
They couldn't hear their worried fleet
Or the natives on patrol
They were turned into the dearly departed
Because these savages are basically *******
No justice was found for those men
They were killed by a protected people
Why are we protecting them then
If mere contact will always be lethal?

We love our ancestors so much we let them ****** us
Yet these are the same people that have inserted us
Into this cycle of violence
And now they're dead
The only relief is their silence
Their ideas we must shed
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
Andrew Rueter Mar 2018
I was raised in the wild
With all the defiled
So my mood was mild
While bodies were piled

I was a lonely coyote
The other creatures didn't know me
Because I slinked in the shade
To avoid their detection
Loneliness is what I had to trade
To pass their inspection

Other animals couldn't brave the weather
Or their fragile arteries were severed
They laid there dead
I wondered if they ever lived
It went to my head
What this world can give
I saw the buzzards
Ring their buzzers
Then the maggots fed on their brain
While not understanding their pain
These images did me no good
While I was stuck in the woods
And I couldn't see the forest through the trees
I was lost
If I didn't find a home by winter I would freeze
In the frost

I tried to find a home in hollowed trees
But I was chased out by a bunch of bees
And the darkened caves
Seemed like shallow graves
When that's where bats play
But peaceful open meadows
Left me susceptible to attack
Everything seemed mellow
So I had to watch my back

Winter was approaching
And I saw no solutions
The cold air encroaching
Like frigid pollution
But my shady luck shifted
Once I was graciously gifted
A powerful and majestic horse
That put me on a better course
I ride the steed with a leather saddle
Made of skin stripped off simple cattle

It took the strength of an ox
To hold down this fox
Yet my domestication
Calls for celebration
Because now I live in a house
Without having to hide like a mouse
I can strut like a peacock
With a bird of my flock

It's a form of animal husbandry
Because you're in love with me
I'm the insistent critter
From a different litter
That saw life wither
From damage inner
I was a raccoon digging through the trash
Now I'm a phoenix rising from the ash

You're an agricultural guy
So vultures circle the sky
Looking to harvest your bountiful crop
They must smell death underneath it
Their presence makes my heart drop
And all I want to do is defeat it
But even as they get near
You remain here
We stand together as scarecrows
In a defensively unified paired row

This is the delightful day
You end all my wild ways
And eliminate my suffering
With your animal husbandry
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
Andrew Rueter Nov 2017
If you were reincarnated as an animal
Knowing everything you do now
Would you treat humans differently than animals already do?
Or would you bite the hand that beats?
Or would you bite the mouth that eats?
Would you treat humans kindly?
That could be a bullet finding

I come across a shivering raccoon
Stuck inside a winter monsoon
It's too young to survive
I could help I surmise
Its coat can't protect its form
In my car it's nice and warm
But I don't understand the raccoon
And I fear it doesn't understand me
Though I'm not proud of it
I travelled around it

Mosquitoes want your blood to survive
The same way I want your love to arrive
There's a pestering orbit
Your teeth grind and grit
I feel the need to feed
I am overcome by greed
I want you inside me
So I insert my proboscis
And you turn into colossus
It's an animal process
When you squash us

So animals grow stingers
And poison that lingers
When we use our fingers
To smash them
And detach them
From our humanistic existence
They have a reproductive resistance
So we keep fighting
And they keep biting
Because there's no end in sight
When we see animals take flight

We define anything different as animal
This is our excuse to act tyrannical
They feel our wrath
When they're in our path
We turn them into roadkill
This world becomes a landfill
Our hollowed humanity on the shelf
We treat animals as we treat ourself
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
Andrew Rueter Sep 16
The dead go to another planet
one inside of ours
The dead go to another planet
outside our fleshy bars
The dead go to another planet
floating around the stars.

The dead go to another planet
a place they can call home
The dead go to another planet
one of earth and bone
The dead go to another planet
one we're never shown.

The dead go to another planet
and I can't stand it
how the information demanded
is never implanted
as lives are disbanded
with tickets we're handed
leading us to another planet.
Andrew Rueter Mar 21
I feel depressed
I need to get out
but once I join the rest
my head’s filled with doubt.

I go to a party filled with fluff
and people worshipping stuff
is just going enough?
Or should I act like a ****
to get out of this rut?

I want to be me
but I want to be loved
how do I get free
from anxiety’s glove.

Should I be the crazy guy?
Or the wild card?
If I use charismatic lies
will they be charmed?
I look for ways to disarm
my anxious self harm.

I tell myself I’m trying
but in my mind I’m crying
laying on the ground writhing
wondering why I’m not finding
an interpersonal binding.

I start to wander
without a responder
I’m at the Battle of Gondor
and can’t find an orc
I see the flight of the condor
but I’m just a stork.

Do I need to stay?
Or should I lead the lame
and flee away?
I bleed out shame
at the speed of rain
when I see my game
bringing pain
to my strung out lane.

I tell myself I don’t fit in
so I grab the gin
to grasp a win
putting my paralysis
through dialysis
to try some bliss
yet something’s amiss
so I clench my fists
and start getting ******.

I say I’m above this
these people are loveless
I blame my brothers
and name them others
as shameless lovers.

I develop an air of superiority
as a defense mechanism
I feel them stare toward me
after I’ve made my decision
this is the attention that I crave
this is my version of being brave
no longer shall my presence be staved
and I’ll take this mentality to the grave.
Andrew Rueter Dec 2018
In the jungle monkeys look for a leader
He doesn’t need to be the best reader
He just needs to be a chest beater
Showing he’ll be a pest eater

An ape emerges from the crowd
Beating its breast
Proving it’s proud
Being the best
Is about being loud
So at its behest
The other apes bow

The lion has fallen asleep
So the ape stole its sheep
And its throne to keep
A mouth of foam to eat
Leading the rabid elite
With trampling feet
And fists that beat

His sharpened fangs
Above the breast he bangs
Cause excruciating pangs
Of torturous pain
In the forest that rains
He controls the brains
Of apes filled with blame
Creating an invasive game
That is their species’ shame

Monkeys think this knuckle dragger
Is more like Uncle Kracker
So they tumble after
His jungle laughter
As he hoards the bananas
Inside his comfy cabana
In a far off savanna

Can’t they see he’s escaping
To his savanna’s safety
After constantly taking
And rainforest ******?
They’re too busy flinging ****
To quietly sit
And examine his wit

Once things aren’t optimal
He avoids the topical
Where it’s sunny and tropical
But a heavy monsoon
Will be brought by God soon
To wipe out the barbaric baboon
And all of his goliath goons
Who are like ****** in the spoon
They’re boiled then used
To pacify the abused
Then filling their shoes

The monkeys’ malevolent master
Couldn’t be replaced any faster
Once every day turned into disaster
But the sour grapes
Dour ape
Not an hour late
He ate the power plate
By building a tower of hate
And a coward’s gate
Sealing our fate
Of a jungle state
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
Andrew Rueter Jun 2018
I'm a doomsday prepper
Afraid of zombie lepers
And nuclear line steppers
So I spend my life preparing
Instead of repairing
A civilization that is constantly crumbling
I focus on post-apocalyptic rumbling

My self reliance
Met my defiance
In an alliance
Of deadly appliance
When I have no faith in the government
Because they might make preparing futile
For the disasters of my wonderment
I don't copy their community style
They'll just die when the world ends
So they're a waste of the time I spend

I tried to look above
To find love
But a giant tidal wave
Blocked the sun's rays
And I could feel the Earth quake
Under my shaking feet
So I decided it was a mistake
And to avoid what's sweet

I will no longer be a misfit
After the apocalypse
I will be more comfortable than everyone else
But will I really keep my resources to myself?
I say of course
From my high horse
I fantasize about being right
So others will see the light
Of a nuclear blast
And see that I last
They'll beg to see my stocked shelf
Yet I will offer no help
I'll say my memory is hazy
Didn't you call me crazy?
Protecting my goods in that vulnerable hour
With a stockpile of firearm firepower

I prepare for an impending doom
That'll create some elbow room
Instead of friends I gather supplies
For a cataclysmic surprise
Where everyone dies
Then I'll be happy
Hunting and trapping
All alone
In a blast zone
Where someone once said
Life is what happens
While you're making plans
But the apocalypse
Is my promised land
Andrew Rueter Dec 2017
They either say "We'll spend some time"
Or they say "Well, never mind"
Is it the apostrophe
That makes us we?
Or is it a mentality
That sets us free
To changes
And ranges
Of open thoughts and feelings
That bring us together
Until negativity starts stealing
And our connections we sever

We'll feel well
After escaping the hell
That is the difference between well and we'll
But they will not be the hands that heal
When they act like adding the apostrophe
Is tantamount to apostasy
So they wield sabres
Of different flavors
Like the shallow gravers
And the glow stick ravers
That look good on paper
Until they are erased
When I need their embrace
I'm left hanging
Like an apostrophe
Putting me down
Into a comma coma
Leaving holes in me
Like a drama stoma
Like a mama boa

You're your apostrophe
When you take away being
And turn something into a possession
You channeled my overt obsession
Then punctuated with aggression
The end of our sentence

I can't survive this period of my life
When savages cause serious strife
By adding small marks to me
Until it becomes too dark to see
In the shadow of their apostrophe
Andrew Rueter Oct 2019
this frost pit
I consult a locksmith
who’s actually toxic.

Apothecary land-
mines can confine
My carcass kind.

I reach into the abyss
and I’m handed pills.
I sense something’s amiss
once they remove my will.
Andrew Rueter Jun 2019
I see you at work
I see you at church
I want to flirt
Yet I stay perched
When my only worth
Is to be hurt

I've been burned before
Yet I yearn for more
While the spurns are sore
In this hurtful war
I never learned to score
So I earned the door

I fantasize
About your feral eyes
That paralyze
My carol cries
As I stare and sigh
You gouge my eyes
With fingers that pry
Into my singular life
Bringing a plight
Of losing all sight

Our relationship is unlikely
Because I'm unsightly
Anxiety fights me
As I die rightly
Without you knighting
Me politely

I'm full of fear
And apprehension
I want to steer
Away from the tension
With an inner invention
Of a dour dimension
Fearing an election
Where I'm not the selection

You'll act like I have hep C
Or some form of leprosy
Meaning we won't be wrestling
So why put myself in jeopardy?

My heart will be constricting
Once you're done whipping
And my blood is dripping
So I bring a shield with me
So I'm never really living

I'm so scared
And unprepared
I approach your lair
The idea you don't care
Is too much to bear
So I decide not to share
The image of a pair
With you and I there

I feel *****
I feel guilty
It gets stormy
As I **** me
Loneliness is my home I guess
I know I'm an absolute mess
When the decision is no contest
Even with no context
You can see I'm a dog vexed
By the odd hex
Of your god flex
When you call next
So apprehension protects
Andrew Rueter Dec 2018
An arctic fire
Scorches the Earth
Into an entire
Frozen turf
Of no worth
Only hurt
Where death and decay
Are here to stay
In winter’s way
To my grave

The leaves are dead
Like the teens *****
Who went to bed
And woke up led
To their reluctant stead

The branches are bare
Like the love I share
With those who dare
Return my stare
Of frozen care

My friends are chill
Once they take a pill
And let the ice build
Until a giant ice hill
Freezes their light will
Seeing life as time to ****
Their shifty shoes I fill

This winter has shown
That I don’t have a home
And if I want to be known
I have to build a new phone
Or get bombed by a drone
So I stay in my zone
Of an arctic cone

I was once warm
In proper form
Until I grew horns
Like icy thorns
And my icicles
Are quite fickle
Their knife sickles
Until blood trickles
On my frigid path
Of winter’s wrath

I’m freezing to death
Until there’s nothing left
Except a societal debt
Of a temperature set
That was never met
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
Andrew Rueter Aug 2017
I live in a magical world
Where doors create portals to opportunities
Opportunities to change where you are
But those doors are being closed
And locks turn those doors into walls
Doors are rejected
Walls are erected
Walking into the middle of a cul-de-sac
Is like walking into the middle of the Coliseum
Where everybody watches you
And hopes you die slowly
When we trap ourselves inside
We trap ourselves when we dare to travel outward

We need to bring closure to this enclosure
By gathering the courage to approach her
Or the strength to approach him
For love, not on a whim
But my tires are worn to the rim
When I can't see through the win shields
As I drive myself through this pin field
My tires are flattened
Like sheets of satin
That drown me in love
Until the tension starts stewing
When I see their hatred buoy

Why the need to isolate
Like it's 1938?
Modes of thinking I can't appreciate
We should share the food on our plate
But I fear the hour is too late
Even though our power is so great
The car starts to die
When it should fly
We find things to buy
When we should cry
We take those things inside
And lock the door
Lonely to the core
We stare out the window searching for hope
Only to see the arena we've made
Built from the prices we paid
To buy the things
That guard us from contact
The materials build up
Until we're compact
Crushed by the weight of our security
Pushed from the light of our purity
Unable to muster communication
We stare at the PlayStation
We need to end this graycation
And enter an era of compassionate contemplation
Andrew Rueter May 2017
When I'm with other people
Their mere presence reflects my character
Their strength validates me as an individual
Friends sneak away and doubt creeps in
Who am I without my companion justifiers?
So I'm going to build an army
And we're going to storm the walls of hatred
They'll throw their bombs
******, ******, ****
Usually more specialized weapons appear as well
All trying to use shame to strip us of our very humanity
We disarm their shame with pride
Not pride in the way one is born or lives
But pride in the face of those who tell us we should feel ashamed
Those hate filled walls will be trampled by our friendship
Once we've infiltrated the pitch black city
We'll seize their holy temple
And find me
Naked, crying, alone
We'll pick me up and dust me off
After all, I have an army to build
Can art and religion coexist
When art is about asking questions
And religion is about providing answers?
Really proud to have this published in Time of Singing Volume 47 Number 2 Summer 2020 issue.
Andrew Rueter Jul 21
Does an artist have a responsibility
to steer their audience in a positive direction
or is honesty and self expression all that is required?
Andrew Rueter May 2019
If I’m always ashamed of the things I’ve done
Should I always be ashamed of the things I do?
Andrew Rueter May 2019
My very worst nightmare
Is of me staying asleep
Sword stuck in the sheath
Andrew Rueter Jan 2018
They punch me in the face
Until it is apparently asymmetrical
They call me human waste
And tell me not to be sentimental
When they're insistent
On our difference
I begin to see asymmetry
In the way they're treating me

Does anybody remember or even care
About what happened in Nisour Square?
A Blackwater slaughter
Killing sons and daughters
An unprovoked
Macabre joke
The militants were convicted
The victims remained deceased
The locals were livid
When the problem would repeat
We don't mind taking innocent lives intentionally
When we see their value asymmetrically

Does anyone remember when the city of Fallujah
Smoked like a hookah?
Thermobaric rocket launchers
That used depleted uranium
To melt insurgent craniums
Left behind waste
That is radioactive
The citizens could taste
The shame of being passive
When they couldn't reject
The spike in birth defects
A child is born with its heart protruding from its chest
So we can more easily grab it
That child was born with an asymmetrical breast
Because of our capitalist habit

Contractor corpses hang from a bridge
While we stand on a ridge
Separating chaos and order
A symmetrical border
Order oppresses
Chaos undresses
Both cause messes

We need to see each other equally
Or we'll continue seeing sequel sprees
We need to stop seeing asymmetrically
And adopt a completely loving creed
Andrew Rueter Dec 2017
You made a visit
For a tidbit
That couldn't be called a date
And your portion was low rate
Like the unkempt hair above your lip
What the **** was that ****?
Inside is your invasive tongue's home
This is my mouth get your own
They're all connected to your stupid brain
That doesn't entertain
All this to say it didn't go well
And I'm searching for a way to tell

I'm so desperate for love
It seems absurd that I'm rejecting anyone
But that's the odd situation I find myself in
While searching for light and yours is dim
I have to deal with the frustrations
Of both of our expectations
And regret my instigation
While experiencing deflation
From a needless iteration

I say there's no spark
You call me a shark
You call me a farce
You keep calling of course
Calling from your high horse
I call the police to enforce
A restraining order
By explaining sort of
Our brief exhausted history
How you weren't a fit for me
They heard my story
Then gave you glory
For being rejected
You're viewed sympathetic
While I'm stuck in jail
For my ******* fail

I said I'd give it a shot
You thought I was caught
This is why I had fought
The ideas you brought
For a love you sought
I hope a lesson was taught
But I suspect that it's not
You just hate me instead
You didn't hate me in bed
But now that it's done
And we've had our fun
You resent me for not being your possession
I tried to let you know that wasn't my intention
So now I resent you for not learning your lesson

We go our separate ways
Both living in a hectic craze
I begin to naively call my loneliness freedom
After I convince myself that I don't need them
So to avoid a future locking latch
I start to say no strings attached
Andrew Rueter May 2017
Nobody noticed me under the water
Drowning silently
But now I've reached the surface
Screaming violently
People seem to have a problem with the volume
My life is at risk of bleeding into their's
Oh, look at me whining for attention
Everybody wants attention
I'd rather be someone who says things for attention
Than someone who never says anything
And never gets any attention
When people see me I hope they see themselves
They just look right through me
All this in search of the grand attention
It shoots through you like a bullet
Then washes over you like a wave
But it's different for me...
It explodes inside me like an atomic bomb
And then pours out into the canyon that separates me from myself
They say a dog will **** anything
I disagree
It all depends on how much you beat them
Strike them constantly until their sexuality is
By the constant barrage of pain and damage
By the treachery and cruelty of their owner
By shame
Andrew Rueter May 2019
In all mediums of art
There is a give and take
Between the artist and their audience
Both sides must give everything and take everything
They’re two halves of a whole
In a reciprocal relationship
Where they must give 100%
To meet each other 50/50

The artist must pour their heart and soul into their work
And the audience must reward the artist by doing the same
Consuming art with an enthusiastic, optimistic open mind
Yet many people don’t consume art this way
They enjoy the weight of their own opinions too much
So to try to give their opinions credibility
They become overly critical and jaded

The audience starts to adopt a “this better impress me” attitude
But their criteria is always different
I met an example in a film discussion with a cynic
Who only complained about the plot or CGI
Because they didn’t know what else to look for
And ended up hating plenty of movies
They didn’t know how to watch in the first place

Yet on the other side of that coin
These people convince themselves they like total **** to seem smart
I can never predict what shotgun blast on canvas they’ll call brilliant
But it usually relies on the power of suggestion
A famous person made it or other people like it
Usually explained as “raw emotion” or something along those lines
While thoughtful and interesting work is shot down

This mentality turns artists away
While attracting frauds
Who develop a pretense to impress those idiots
By acting like an artiste
They contribute to a culture devoid of depth
Where critical thinking is used to find ways of being different
As asserting individuality trumps emotional connection
For consumers trying to avoid appearing superficial
Yet they just end up unique and shallow
We used to watch our lives together
then you got tired of the show
yet you wanted to keep up with the story
so you downloaded my life on audiobook
narrated by my friends and family
cropping out sections to protect themselves
skipping chapters to give you the plot points
you get the fan edit of my life
and critique a children’s book.
Andrew Rueter Nov 2017
I hear a calling
But I prefer falling
So I practice avoidance
It's a void dance
To an annoyed trance
To avoid a glance
Or taking a chance

People take pieces they don't plan on returning
The only replacement is the sensation of burning
In this hell
With no one to tell
Because I locked my heart
Which felt like a good start
Until loneliness pervaded my soul
And I can't climb out of this hole

I create isolation
When there's no inspiration
I discontinue integration
And go on permanent vacation
I watch movies
To feel groovy
I write
Out of sight
I play video games
To avoid shame
I decide to act lame
So no one asks my name

I begin to feel sour
In my lonely tower
I used to think independence was power
Until I found myself in my darkest hour
With only friends to help
The same friends I put on a shelf
That are now mythical like an elf

Is life just giving all my pieces away?
Disconnection leaves my life grey
But if I decide to stay
My love they will slay
They will toy with my emotions
Until I feel their encroachment
But I'd rather have a toy's chance
Than live my life in a void dance
Andrew Rueter May 2019
I’m a face in the crowd
With the holier than thou
Who scream so loud
That they’re proud
I look around
Then look at the ground

We disagree
On different needs
They’re an aggressive breed
Making others bleed
For what they believe
So I flee
Into solitary
Avoiding Ares

I become less brotherly
As I forget the suffering
In my submerged submarine
Where I can’t hear the thundering
Of social interaction blundering

I’m exiled in style
Haven’t seen people in a while
Which makes me smile
Skipping their trials
Walking for miles
Without the vile
Spewing their bile

I walk through peaceful pastures
Far away from our corporate masters
Dodging all the disasters
That make us die faster
I focus on the pastor
To live happily ever after

I lose my relatability
In a state of tranquility
From the holy trinity
Helping me see infinity
And start living differently
Instead of living miserably

Using ignorance for protection
I start to lose connection
To important lessons
That met my deflection
Or circumvented detection
As part of my rejection
Of society’s infection

I try to avoid negativity
But I can’t set the living free
If all my life is giving me
Reflects my selfish greed
Living under tranquil trees
Away from their hypocrisy
And false democracy
Always mocking me
From afar
Leaving the door ajar
For me to heal some scars
But for that I’ll have to leave Mars
And mingle with the stars
That float in the distance
While I watch their imprints
Making the night sky different

I avoid their pain
Becoming lame
Playing a game
Of staying tame
So I circle the drain
Without leaving a stain
Andrew Rueter Apr 22
Nighttime is perilous
pestilential predators lurk
evisceration entropy envelopes everything
wounds are collected like keys to doors leading underground
and I can hear a jingling in my pocket
so I denounce the nighttime
unlocking the door to a home
where one can sleep at night.

But once I go outside in tomorrow’s morning
the sunlight shines into my soul, cooking my sutured skin
along with the keys I’ve collected
burning through my clothes
and into my body
flies can smell subcutaneous sizzling a mile away
they yearn to feast, buzzing all around me
crawling through my insides
while vultures fly laps around me from above.

So I throw a nocturnal drape over the tumultuous foothills
and begin imparting my basement keys onto others
an imposing locksmith
a charitable safecracker
Johnny Applekeys
prowling with pouncing predators
masking my petulant bitterness with false wisdom
my edgy perception of maturity tells me to be jaded
hey, that’s just the way it is
I call myself an honest realist
a self ordained keymaster
I wear my key ring proudly
and distribute keys to those around me.

Stuck between persistent motion and paralysis
my key chains start swinging like pendulums
dancing like an opposing militia
like my eyes once I start getting nervous
waiting for the receipts to my exchanges
reflecting how I’m living in the red
and the debt I owe others
I can only pay in keys leading nowhere.

I try to convince them that the doors I unlock lead to riches
but we all know they’re paths to the hell from whence I came
my words are for myself
like the hell I man the ferry for
selling keys to scary doors
used as lifeboats in my shipwreck life
surviving off of other people’s strife.

The keys are overflowing from my makeshift pit
they poke into my veins like needles from the past
suffocating me like a rat in an hourglass, buried in sand
I imagine it’s the beach to the shore I can reach no more
unlike my swamp where I act as lifeguard
to a lagoon no man inhabits
I say “the water is fine, hop on in”
when I don’t even know how to swim
so even the trees think that I’m dim
when I hang my keys on their limbs.

Surviving night means eat or be eaten
yet my decisions effect daytime treatment
when scars put me behind bars
I inquire as to the depth of the dungeon
digging a subterranean home then diving deeper
finding company at the bottom with grim reapers
where the ostrich that flies is ostracized until it’s fossilized
so I sit in my estranged egg
not wanting to ever hatch
but no matter how much I beg
my keys unlock the latch.
Andrew Rueter Sep 2017
Birds own the day
Bats own the night
Birds see in grey
Bats think they're right
At the break of dawn
Both take flight
Until darkness is gone
And we live in light
The beginning of dusk
Spells the end of our luck
Vampire bats steal our blood
Empire gats steal our love

The birds and the bees
Are no match
For the bats in the trees
They drain our youthful creed
And cause our heart to freeze
Until we hear the pleas
Of others being drained
We're glad they're in pain
We want them to be stained
By the nightly game

We've nightshifted into bats
Encouraging a nature nocturnal
It's like herding vampire cats
When the winged war is internal
How do we fix this? What can we do?
The answer stands impatiently in front of humanity
echoing how each person must always become better
but then the question becomes
what is better?
Something learned along the way.
Andrew Rueter Nov 2018
Time is fleeting
Winter is weaving
Coming and leaving
Stunning the seething
Gunning and bleeding
Running from needing
Honeys for breeding

The rabid and bitter
Look for a babysitter
But find Hades’ River
In a shady grifter

A timeline
By bribe buys
And tribe lies
Of pride cries
Decides why
Defiled guys
Have wild eyes
And exile ties
With bile tides
Of vile vies
For a piece of the pie

Those who worship aggression
Follow their idiotic impressions
From charismatic rally sessions
Of one-sided lessons
Based on dejection
Contracting an infection
Preventing self reflection
Halting their progression
With thought deflection
For emotional protection

So the recent challenger
Is the event calendar
Becoming a pal ender
For the scowl senders
Who’re foul lenders
Or growl at tender
Tower menders

My debt’s share
Of fresh air
In death’s snare
Is best spared
But pests stare
With test glares
So I get scared
And let blare
My fret fair

This emergency
Of an inferno sea
Must be urgently
Purged from me
So I can see
The way to be
Hate free
And not flee
From interacting

But the clients and buyers
Are tyrants and liars
While times are dire
The pirates set fire
And hydrants retire
As the world perspires
And starts to expire
The heart of the empire
Has parked the choir
And sparked this mire
Into a funeral pyre

So I can only hope
This lycanthrope
Likened trope
Will not poke
The bear we host
Who cares the most
Of the scares of ghosts

This reason to sell
Season of hell
Treasonous spell
Deletes the smell
Of seeds that fell
Who need to tell
Their creed is well
Yet we see the intel
Warning they’re bitter incels

The dimmer mention
The sinners’ tensions
And interventions
As an interception
Of their own reflection
Not passing inspection
Like a class in detention
They mask their perception
With political inventions
To explain the inception
Of their constant deception

Alone without friends
They follow the trends
Of political bends
As they like to pretend
They’re here to defend
But our country descends
Into a dead end
Of a red blend
When the ref spends
All his time deafened
Andrew Rueter Jun 2017
I have a light under my concrete
For others
It is fatally luminous
So it must be contained
I relegate rays to the darkest depths
So no light may exit
But then you walked on my blacktop
And cracks started to form in my road
Light began to escape
You were fascinated
I was terrified
Because the more you traversed my pavement
The further my road split
Brilliant flashes with increasing frequency surfaced
Your curiosities were piqued
Mine were plagued
By what lies underneath
And when it would blind you

I tried to warn you from inside my cocoon
You said you'd purchase sunglasses
You never understood
This light
Shatters glass like Stone Cold Steve Austin
It's intensity is a stunner
It may be the Sun itself
But you insisted on continuing
To travel down this path

As models import wrinkles
Potholes become sinkholes
Fears were realized
Senses overwhelmed
Skin burned
Into something unrecognizable
As all signs of life fade
I'm stranded on a crumbled road
With only sightless cadavers to lead me home
Andrew Rueter Jan 2018
You undersell me
And overwhelm me
Your lovely tidal wave
Cuts like a bridal blade
Your knife slices so deep
It drags on my bone
Your knife must meet sheath
For me to find home

Your blade
Is high grade
So sharply acute
It cuts all roots
I didn't realize emotions went this deep
You use your blade to slaughter sheep
If they don't survive your brain surgery
Or your engrained perjury

You're the blade
But you don't hunt vampires
I want you to stay
And light my heart's fire
Don't Wesley snipe at me
Or point your knife at me
Just hold me
So I forget the old me
Cut out what you don't like
Until I made only of light
The process is painful
But you change me
Cut from every angle
You rearrange me
You make improvements
By cutting grooves in

I'm so afraid I may disappoint you
Because I have already anointed you
My king
I wear your ring
That severs my fingers
Making me useless
When so much love lingers
But I can't prove this
There is a ****** blade at my throat
While our love precariously floats
Andrew Rueter Nov 2017
We live in the unlighted state of America
Where what happens when we turn the lights off
Is dealt with darkness
And matters of delicate touch
Are treated with sharpness
When our only language
Is to inflict anguish
We cut connections in the bedroom
To clear our cynical head room
For contempt and judgement

People looking for a feeling to fall into
Or a reason to live
Must face frigid climates
When the public invades privacy
And ill fated ****** exploits
Pervade salacious tabloids
Our ****** regrets
Cut the deepest
Society reaps them
Sowing us together with resentment
We provide each other with relief
But not the relief we're looking for
We give each other hours of relief
Until those useless hours become days
And those fruitless days become years
That engender endless tears
As it remains warm in our car
But the winter outside freezes anything that breaks the plane
And our air conditioning only helps so much
When the spinning wheels are in our faces

There is a national coverage in the media
That presents a bleak picture of the ****** health of America
I feel I sit somewhere in between
*** offenders and a disgusted public
When I observe the observers
Who are too scared shitless to ever face their own emotions
Judge those for overindulging in their emotions
They lived their life in fear and safety
So they could be the righteous ones
To admonish the risk takers and mistake makers
Yet they are of the least value to humanity
They're the people who grade all your answers as incorrect
Without providing their perfect alternatives
While trying to erase the context
Because of what the context has to say about society
People feeling that they can never be emotionally vulnerable
Until they experience sheer desperation
And no dollar contract
Can replace human contact
Yet we give men so much money and power
And ask them to feel fine in our cold shower
Until we are soiled by their intention
A nation committed to selling Stella Artois
A nation full of Blanche DuBois

Humanity folds in on itself
When we attack with ***
Humanity does itself a disservice
By not trying to understand these attacks honestly
We forsake forgiveness
And embrace desperation
Until we become unbearably desperate
For attention
For approval
For ****** contact
For money
For validation
And sometimes our desperate desires become tangled
I'd like to think of that as love
And not a meeting between two practical rapists
That conjoin in the middle
Yet somehow come out distorted on the other side
Andrew Rueter Jun 2018
Their lives bleed into mine
What am I becoming?
As long as I'm bleeding in line
I can hear war drums drumming
I feel my purity and youth leave me
As their lack of couth feeds me
And their sweet tooth bleeds me
Until eventually I too am greedy

In this ****** atmosphere
Our ***** past is clear
Inspiring future fears
And hardened tears
Drowned by beers
And empty cheers
Through the years
Until we're here
As a ****** stranger
Head banger
In Jesus' manger

This blight
Of life
As a simulation
Of assimilation
Into a nation
Of incineration
In a ****** mire
Lit by the fire
Positioned higher
I call my sire

I fidget in the cage
Of this pivotal maze
Called the Digital Age
I'm in need of healing
From this dark feeling
That I'm an innocent child reading
A book about a grown man bleeding
Always met with a hateful greeting
While sympathy is fleeting
Being replaced by our own jadedness
After living with those who hated us
We develop defensive thorns
Resembling demonic horns
To match public scorns

My first love
Drew first blood
And I couldn't halt the blood loss
Exacerbated by the mud toss
Of the sinister town crier
Exposing my heart's desires
So I said never again
For the bleeding to stop
When dealing with men
Is like meeting the cops
Aware that I'm defenseless
They start beating me senseless
So I become a judge myself
Part of the sludge for my health
I won't budge unless it's for wealth
Accepting the cards I was dealt

They bled into me
Now red is all I see
No way to get free
So I follow their lead
And choose to bleed
As they pray and plead
It becomes my turn
To cause the burns
That I had learned
When I was spurned
And lost my purity
Now blood cures me
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
Andrew Rueter Dec 2018
While I am innocently driving
Headlights approach behind me
That are totally blinding
Here nobody will find me
So I have to keep riding

I can barely see the road
Because the scary glow
Only seems to grow
As it gets closer
To bringing me closure
In what could be a bull dozer

Sweat falls down my cheek
Because times are bleak
When I can’t see the street
The lights and my car meet
Yet I continue moving
As the lights go through me
They illuminate my cabin
Like a luminescent dragon
Disorienting my brain
With blinding pain
On this winding lane
During hazardous rain

The headlights float through my car
While shining like an exploding star
I’m having difficulty seeing very far
The headlights are my vision’s guard
Because my eyes start burning
While my wheels keep turning
I reluctantly resume learning
Shining pain on this journey

Well this isn’t good
The lights went through my hood
Violently twisting metal
But not the gas pedal
So my car won’t settle
As the blinding lights replace my own
Now blinding others feels like home
For I want the light’s pain to be known
So I won’t feel so alone
In this blinding zone
Andrew Rueter Nov 25
Deep underwater
we blow unwilling bubbles
pockets of blue air
Andrew Rueter Oct 2017
You act callously crude
Like Cronenberg's brood
You keep the body horror
In the naughty drawer
I feel my body's poorer
So you convince me I'm rich
Then treat me like an itch
And scratch
To detach

You invited me to your chateau
Then left me on this plateau
For my beating heart exploded from my chest
Once I foolishly entered your nasty nest
There I lay
As immobile prey
My body was infected
By your touch
And my mind dissected
Way too much

You passionately present me with body horror
I really resent you for being a shoddy sawyer
Cutting me down but not completely
Your lackluster love travels obliquely
Dislocating my horrified heart
My rib cage begins to part
As my mangled love
Escapes with my blood
My fingers are breaking
Trying to carry the relationship
Happiness I'm faking
When you crack your elation whip

When I'm powerless to the *****
I become showerless in a hurry
And my skin starts to rot
While I lie on your cold cot
You're my unforgiving cop
And the horrors never stop
Andrew Rueter Jun 2019
I'm sad and I don't know why
Could it be that I steal and lie?
I say it's what I do to get by
While I still think I'm right
So I still need an explanation
For this depression's duration
I give my mind placation
With useless information
Which gives me frustration
While I yearn for elation

I put the focus on my brain chemistry
So people won't think less of me
For not living blessedly
From the lessons seen
That I ignored indeed
Like my aborted dreams
That were thwarted into steam
Once I found my neurological stream
Could take the blame for all that I've been

I have low serotonin
I have low dopamine
I feel the power of Odin
Choking me
And I can't see
Through the freeze
Of countless needs
That are unwatered seeds

I'm depressed
I'm bipolar
I regress
Into disorders
I use to put up borders
Or beg for quarters

A new age way
Of shirking my responsibility
I am my brain
I must own the emotions filling me
If I want to escape depression willingly
I must face it head-on until I'm free
But I don't follow those who lead
So I continue to be

I ignore finding purpose
Or answering a calling
My only searches
Are for pills falling
Off the doctor's dolly

What's in my mental
Makes me special
But I'm disheveled
So I befriend the devil
On this lonely level
Where I solemnly settle

I think other people are lying
About how much they're crying
Because they seem like they're trying
While all I'm doing is sighing
At their pain I'm denying

The more people diagnosed with depression
The less of an individual it makes me
So I rationalize they haven't learned a lesson
And lives I'd love to be trading
Because all I'm doing is skating
While giving others' lives ratings
Comparing them to my rabies
I'm melodramatically exacerbating

Other people transform
I stick to the norm
Convinced I'm deformed
Not from the storm
But from when I was born

I want your sympathy
Not your help
Any advice you give to me
I'll put on the shelf
Sarcastically saying "Thanks I'm cured"
Because I think my negativity is truer
Than anything newer
Like your positivity
I rebuffed unwittingly
Because I'm miserable
And can't handle the truth
So it hurts so visceral
When you call me uncouth
But I'm not a sleuth
So I blame it all on youth
And the rest of your troops
Separated from my toxic loop

So I isolate myself
And get depressed even more
I blame my mental health
As I fall short of the shore
With opportunities galore
Yet all I can do is snore
And think of who I was before
Modern psychology implored
A brain chemistry war
Andrew Rueter Sep 18
Life is full of wonder and curiosity as a small child. My eyes see. My tongue tastes. My fingers feel. My fingers feel as much as they can hold. One day my fingers feel a pepper. I'm fascinated by its texture. I roll it around in my hand to try to understand this wondrous world and its glorious gifts.

The pepper's provided productive perplexing pondering but I'm done with it now. Once set down I feel a twitch from an itch in my eyes that see. Eyes don't see my fingers as spicy. Fingers don't feel the pain that resides within them. Ears don't hear the silent marauders invading the grooves of my fingerprints. Satisfying my itch is my instinctive reaction. I'm in for a painful surprise once fingers meet eyes.

All I see is pain. All I feel is pain.
Disorienting pain that makes me sink to the floor. The cold linoleum offers no solace for the hellfire in my eyes. Blind and lost, wandering through agony, father picks me up. I can sense the hands that crafted and nurtured me. He is the solver and thus, will solve my pain. The jubilation of rescue is washed away as he shoves me under a running faucet. Surely, he has betrayed me. Surely, he is trying to ****** me. He throws me into a waterfall and asks me to swim up it.  Between sputtering out water and trying to turn away I feel panicked anger. He created me yet he gives me pain and death? I curse him in my wrath. After hope has been lost the warmth of healing comforts my eyes. The turbulent waves I thought I was drowning in were actually washing the brimstone from my eyes. Father forgives my curses as he forgives all things. Yet, I feel guilt for my lack of loyalty. If I cursed him while he actively rescued me, what will I do when the time comes to fight for him?
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