Painful truths -
That those you love are broken,
Misused and abused,
Having let only pain
Shape who they are.
What they have grown to become
Is in turn the abuser
Having never freed themselves
Of all of the trauma.
As response is triggered-
Healing is hard

Roll your eyes,
What emptiness resides
Within the vacant cavity behind?
Search inside,
Roll them toward yourself and never
Again, outward.
Those who cannot stomach themselves
Have no place to judge another;
When all is law and each thought verdict
Passed upon others, save for the trouble,
Of living up to your word proper.
When someone hates themselves just as much as they hate you;
When it's a life of lies, the truth is
Misery takes no sides but to dishonesty.
What defense can be mounted
In courts with no deliberation?
Where fact is mourned over the exalted opinion
And partisanship is par for course,
Where being objective and without bias is common treachery
And only shows how little you understand of the situation at hand
One likely having little recourse for discourse
Room only for more, escalatory rhetoric & action
As hatred only knows hatred;
Breeding further contempt and confusion  
For the ailings of the world

Vanity, take your measurements -
Tailor me a suit to cover all character.
Take all discretion, only
As to whether I'm dressed pleasant
And wear a guise that's hygienic.
It's all very copacetic,
A couple of sweet words
More akin to syrup than cane;
Unnatural and fake.

Old man stroked his chin,
Rubbed his forehead
And ran his hands through his hair.
He cleared his throat,
Tightening the slack in his line,
He was a regular killick in his time -
Youth was short, but was it fair.
These days it's just a simple trolling boat,
And he casts his rod overboard
But he's not been bringing up a lot.
Waitin' on that change in the wind.

Never was water more refreshing,
Than when I thought I would die of thirst.
Fire never felt so warm as
The moments before I was burned,
And never looked as beautiful
As before it was consumed.
Light split like memories,
When I look up into the night sky;
Things gone, things refracted,
All that's there that eclipses the eye.
I never knew what it was to be *****,
Acting like I was always clean.
Never knew how wrong I was
Thinking I was always right, ignorantly
Hurting those around me
As they've hurt me.
Stagnant puddle reflecting,
Wading against the stream;
Swimming but drowning

You can play like a big cat but
That's still just a kitty,
And I hear you roaring yet
They sound like meows to me.
Other felines especially like fish,
You purr at the taste of meat.
Blood dye whiskers,
Fresh enough when pulse still beats
And colors tread in cheeks;
She was just a thirsty drunk
And I, a glass of whiskey.

The banality of only craving to capture,
Never to create.
Aperture into life behind the lens
The misery of the photographer
Is always being on the out
And only being a device when let in.
To be an archiver of the moment,
Truly embodying it in a single shot,
Is the greatest achievement;
For cameras can hope