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Ellen Sep 2020
Your hands around my neck
I find it hard to breathe
Please tell me what you want from me
I don’t know what you need.

I love you more than myself
It is why I am still near
I can feel the end upon us
It is on it’s journey here.

The End speeds across time but is restrained at a flaming cement pillar.
The End is burning bright filled with darkness and affection.

I Open the gates of realization
I Let the pain sink in fast
I Accept our bonds damnation
I knew it couldn’t last.

Nothing can ever be perfect in this dark and dreadful world.
We can feel our love decaying its surface filled with mold.

My mind is enclosed, too weak for growth
My mind is crying out to be nourished and fed
At times I feel her awaken - almost
Then, quickly she withdraws behind her bars of lead.

The ending is bending
The beginning and end, have become friends
Creating a circle, a cycle of our pretending
The ending begins and beginning ends.

Then.
The cycle starts again -
Ellen Sep 2020
We reinvent ourselves, until we are too invented to be ourselves.
We want what we can’t have, we have what we don’t want.
We allow the world to tell us who we need to be in order to succeed.

Under false pretences we are deceived,
Into not being who we want to be, not seeing the things we need to see.
We prevent our dreams from running free,
Instead we nod and agree.
We all want to be, in fact we are all wannabes

We blindly follow the status quo.
We blindly let our thoughts lie now.
There’s ignorance in all we know.
They say we have freedom of speech until we actually speak.
Next up?
We are forcefully impeached.

Not to mention, we claim to see life as this ongoing lesson.
Okay que the tension, How do we fix this giant mess we’re in?

We pride ourselves on harmonic progression.
I have a better suggestion.
We are in our own regression of comprehension, our brains filled with congestion.
Our obsession with possessions is causing a rise in severe clinical depression.
We are compressing our self-expression at our own discretion because we fear leaving a bad impression.

We are afraid to leave our mark on the world.
We are afraid to leave footprints behind;
Footprints beyond the carbon kind.
Everyone is constantly offended.
As if being offended is going to mend all of the real issues we have left unattended, undefended,
Completely open ended-

But please, tell me why you didn’t like that song.
Or why everything is suspect of being so wrong.
Oh. You are offended?
Sorry, I’m just not ******* interested.

You sit and argue all day long, taking pride in games of mindless ping-pong.
Back and forth, spewing words of hate.
Your guns are drawn. Truthfully, we all play along.
We play into the stupidity, into the invalidity of what we see.
Aren’t we supposed to be strong?
You know what is stronger, our need to belong.
The structure of our world slowly crumbles and all I hear is faint mumbles.

But is freedom a possible reality for our society or,
Am I overlooking the gravity of our incapacity.
Is our freedom a complete fallacy?

— The End —