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Everyone wants to be accepted
But no one wants to be loved.
Accepting every attribute about a person
and not discerning right from wrong,
Cannot be loving.
"Oh I'm accepted, I must be loved"
But that kind of acceptance is out of fear of not being accepted in return.
To allow a person to self destruct either acutely or chronically
cannot be considered an act of love.
Love can be a constructive criticism
or a soft spoken word.
But if someone really loves,
they will not hinder the truth even if it hurts.
everyone wants to be accepted,
no one wants to be loved,
Because the world has redefined the true meaning of love.
year march.
From the
to now.
baked in.
All things
From the
to play
a role.
in place.
to be.
in its
to be.
these are not my words
these are not my ways

these are not my hands
this is not my face

so ashamed to be
hiding from myself

do not look at me
I am someone else
I breathe
a sign I take to assume that I still live
among so many monsters
hiding in plain sight.
So well mixed with the society
It is time for sheep to dorn
Wolf's clothing
To feel one with the crowd.
We don’t see the carrots to be cut,
We see the sharp knife that could cut us.

We don’t see the bridge,
We see the other side of the railings.

We don’t see painkillers,
We see medication we could drown ourselves in.

We don’t see the train,
We see the tracks we could lay on.

We don’t see the nice view,
We see the cliff's edge we could jump off.
The turning dials of that old car radio,
Metallic, as the rubber coverings fell
off. What had once protected, lost by
the twisting of that radio's lifespan.

In a car, old as it's manufacturers who
are all dead,
Her strength is still strong on this long
journey to the bigger city.
I fiddle through that plastic box of old
cassette tapes. My finger picking out a
title to fill the radio's mouth. To fill it up with
so much music; that it's old speakers *****
out noise.

Choking the engine of the car's battery,
the lights on the gauges flicker,
And I pull over the side of the road,
it's dark outside and cold. Not of the night
but of the music's chords.

I'm alone.

Waiting for a stranger to stop by,
and jumpstart my car. But only a God,
could jumpstart my heart.
As I reminisce on what it felt like being in
love. A station I had once tuned into,
with all it's cheesy love songs. And their
catchy hooks.

I miss the sound of the music.

A small car pulls up beside me. Yellow
as the sunflower open to the sun.
Bright as a smile; of someone you're glad to
see. 'How long has it been,' you'd ask them.

The window went down;
as a girl with a smile greeted me only by a gaze.
'Do you need help stranger,' she asked.

'Help with a lot of things, I doubt you could
come up to. But you're welcome to try,' my
heart replied.

I nodded slightly, hoping this could be
a quick fix. The quickest way for me out
of a conversation.

But my car was dead.

The stranger offered me a ride to the next town,
to grab a mechanic. I reluctantly agreed.
And before I hopped in that box Sunny,
I had to grab my plastic case of cassettes.

She seemed keen on what contents I had
at hand. Insisting I put a tape inside her radio.
'Hey that's my favourite band,' she said.

I never smiled as real in that moment,
than I ever did before.
With so much in common, we fed our ears
on good music, with our similar tastes.
Making it to the next town, I gave my

Not expecting much back.

'Here's my number. We should hang out sometime
to listen to some good music.
I'll trade you my number for a couple of tapes,'
she said.

She drove off leaving me with a smile,
a number, and a reason for them both. As I
wondered where next this story would go...

I'd love to tune into that.
Something is better
than nothing
Nothing is better
than stupid
Stupid is just
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