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Passed down from one generation
to the next
not knowledge
but values - limiting beliefs

constraining, they were not healed
raised in the system, they knew only to heed
what is worse, their children plead
victims of the system their parents preach.
Systemic racism, systemic sexism, systemic- it never ends. flawed systems need to changed, not perpetuated further.
I write about the middle aged
bald guy, giving the finger
to the citibike business bro,
holding a pack of Pabst.
Or about the cold air in August,
when we ran down Ossington
screaming โ€œFeral Girl Summer!โ€
Maybe I do it to pass the time, or
to relive feelings I canโ€™t forget.
To me itโ€™s all the same -
words pouring onto the sidewalk,
pieces of my Milkyโ€™s iced coffee
with painful oat milk affliction.
I write because Iโ€™m always bitter,
or because my memories melt?
But mostly because I want you
to read this, instead of me.
You have loved me Doggedly for 12 years

He said

Tears in his eyes

It didn't matter if I knew

He said

It didn't matter that I didn't know how to feel it

Tears rolling down his cheeks

It didn't matter if I I couldn't love you back

You just sat there, loving me anyway

Eyes closed.

And I (me)

I just sat there

Holding his hand

Loving him

Too busy outside.
Too busy inside.
Itโ€™s not much fun to live in this world.
It used to be at least interesting, every morning something new.
Now I just hope for peace.
Being able to do the things that I had planned. But more things start coming in.
The night was not long enough.

Getting up, trying to manage through the day.
Planning for the end.
Trying to exist.
Nothing matters, I donโ€™t care, just some things matter like the people and stuff I leave behind.
When Iโ€™m gone and when Iโ€™m ready.
When I love and when Iโ€™m free, forever I demand.
This is not my place to be so itโ€™s a prison.

Many lessons.
Is it for the collective or just me?
Iโ€™m a part of everything so itโ€™s never disconnected, but itโ€™s my journey.
Fitted for me.
And I have to get through it.
Accept it, sometimes not accept it, sometimes love something.
But hating most.

Too busy outside, noise.
Too busy inside, stuff to do.
Places to be or not to be.
They used to be opportunities mostly, what can I do, where can I go?

I still try but my path has become so narrow.
Itโ€™s even hard to walk at all, every step takes time and courage.
And I donโ€™t like it.
Iโ€™m so over it.
The path is long and narrow, itโ€™s my fate.
Toasty toes
And a frosty nose
And a smile that glows
As along her way she goes

Because on her feet
Are a warm and fuzzy treat
That are tapping down the street
In a lovely laid-back beat

And she sees the stares
And she feels the passing glares
But she hardly even cares
It's a challenge no-one dares

So she walks along
Weaving proudly through the throng
And she sings her carefree song
Just so happy to belong

As her lover and friends
Never judge her based on trends
There's no need to make amends
With a world that just contends

Toasty toes
And a frosty nose
And a smile that glows
As along her way she goes
Lyrics for a Bossa Nova style piece I've been working on.
If I'd killed you 4 years ago there would be another anniversary of a
killing to commemorate or celebrate or something. But, because it's
nearly Christmas, I'll refrain from homicide & settle for inflicting 2
crippling infirmities upon you while you're prostrate for Allah. Val-
Zod nearly wasted Superman & no **** gave a Norwayan rat's ***,
but that was just Superman's fate in a popular movie made in 1978.
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