Man life know just set eyes way like young world soul day hunger space mouth earth thoughts ignorance blind things mind knew final moment human creation kind creatures souls high forgotten dream love spoke self existence face holy deep bound think home void say surrender ear forever called held ephemeral red state end shall heed hope edge living waking fall sea wake garden need February thought past wanderer got men page colored tepid terrible **** proudly untitled features point painted faceless box forgot render wild spring splendor  handfuls looking half brain lost torn ancestral  unseen vision inner summer honor mister owned banner save today fear groans wasn't smoke  street fable strange year contrast black years  able pain body spoken word known motion  palpitate reeling nature culture disclaimers  cancer beg attentive frames ****** base profound double remember wholly finger death token  cries continue folk oh fishing form broken true  divides spread ah twas away breathe wait warning hallowed wish closer lens turn eye live  constant current author hung theory dangle  bramble chemical new force changes adderall  anymore giving beneath possess pardon commentaries eternity internal walk reason  long change does idea glimpse consciousness  wandering simply wonder physical dreams war  sleep told rest benign prior begging truth little  2012 born tale crow bowels allegory animal rule  exasperate making horse curse hands ones read  rearrange capture doing command fail awake  aperture seedlings shift steely sir nap spead ****** demons slits clever telling loud spits la-la-di-dah killing slip game reflected nameless ask  lovers rabid bear salivate plunder shameless  famously savior mint rides menthol bully fate traded melodies play misunderstand mammals gentle witless fine utterly savage silt tongue-less  dirt dilutes pure non-sensory taste briefly ravage dismember it''ll shedding ruined curtain  knots offers plot fulfills munificent two-act  relegates boxz bug altruistic wintergreen tossing  callously guise grovels one's singers treachery ashes mid-life mutter fashion parading  ambiguity separatist liars staple steeping neath  guidelines scoffing stitch moans civil wrote  Fictitious undoing fables table effigies serve  sonnets staged remark psalm swoll praise harken  beggar verse bread lines heavily electricity detection snow sack-happy preaching credit  spotted wicked best gravity gun campaign owe  barge choir revelry celebratory satiated sinking  headline pack hound persistently propaganda  gentlemen excluding diminished ******* run idles  occupied levies wolfishly honestly misinformation cuba vehemently dumb grace spectator erasing  toned sage crowded secrets inter-connectivity  loaned prayer hymns grave mistaken magnified  vandals selective jump leak escapes says minister  buckle mass honesty shut tar children's hats  monument doping long-lived electrical ladle  exaggerated cartoons address seconds cool cradle bleak yang's mind-framed hypnotic  walker caps folly treble claim streaks mixtures  swelled interstate elapse teasing spoon mobile  succulent witchcraft borderline fatal 99 temple stacks sups plastics creeps neurotic ills tossed  meek sipping old crack interlock wax alleyway  coughing blown freak clock birthdays societies  slow flashing viscous candy argument toothless  pills cerebral rapt wall bisect lives wheezing  photo kid starter foiled pair saturated self-castrating pre-packed naked uncertainly pill  used came chaos coated reprisal fells wrack  irreverent mirth sickly disinherited proudest  collate wheeze appearance palette disharmony  discontented bastardized emotive bio inhale diction beat spoiled reclamation loudest tempo  totally disembodied matte imperfect shells flat  struck sounding imparts flak origin severance remarked bone walls snared leaflets mocking  hot scripting adjective noun agape seemingly  resistant gawk calamity passage paintings wind  trashcans signings sits cheap makers poetry persist scrap slipping individual talk wonders  leaving questions fold actor fancy parchment  fates engenders flown jaws stripped longer music  sacrifice fakers book boldly frown sigh atop patient hang trade occupation blows spectacular  whispers worthy backward waving certainty danced suppose needn't ‘drawkcab’ second-guessing  boys forget marched motto heads tightly lies two-tone earthbound harp twice turns goodnight  lying ***** internally indiscriminate nickname  drunk convictions myth steep  in-consumption  fitting artist **** universal sick expressions bad  du spell melody big siphon proud learn sprawls song spastic something temperaments utter check  fissures stomp totality blend definitely thrall sing rug voice shade pestilence ties commiserate round devil steady brains emotional certain gate  suckling gates dearth decay weight bounce pound  carrier pangs glass startle contest earthen web  tug pressed air patience flush amassed guest gone apprehension staring empathize captain believe fading in-perceivable deathbed guarder makes surrounds scatter drooling ebb blink cob tome  venom near door lair derision draws host stairs scent parts curiosities spider webbing surprise wares tips stepping ascetics starkness realize picture surroundings dictations grand pillars  deaf limited comparisons greet visual residents  personal settings dismiss alien law stability common earthly shiftless places prelude  understanding mosaic keen trifling embodiments  geared inception whisper visible jowls kiss murky  puddle rank dawn dichotomy single faithful fraying pays tailor veil climb mores pence whim  breath wellspring samara god stony pear  shadows fruiting forebodes moonlit looming  shown passed bog gold wracked faint tongues  noble preachers mirror shifting layered depth  threads jungle narcissus bemused seamstress self-worshiping architect's wore slumber anomalous  opened barren seam lip caustic scene coupled brick gardener's clenches -with forms idle breed  embodied lore starving empathy design illusion  tree coat fabricate lucid mason scatter-all  narrative seeking imbued 16th shivering chemicals 17th 15thrisk improperly dare  deliberate plan purge try brought chapter speed  aide utmost spirit leading intervention felt  recall recent advent sincerity times diary  lackluster piously lasting happy holding hear  stem tasteless whimpers wet spine monstrosity  dripping causes position quite softly claws pallet  answer digging tearing beast satiating circle breaks skips redwoods beckoning rotted hushed  gray lapsing monoliths deities creborus  imbuement hand stroll paradigm rendered chorus shy whispering forest residual tension  surrenders tolerance lull anew sentenced  bearing tide birds dirge divergent rim joined  cogs wood hesitant mist emergent towering offer  awareness confinement inverted faultier stowed  plane sanctified blanketing trusting memory fossil flash twists laden self-indulgent fleeting invitation agony grip shore impetus lingering  crows promise gift union swallowing endless floor supposed ecstasy sensory intent  psychotropic cradling placement interned  jagged connectivity exchange congenial begun  summons singular spiral assumes ambient reciprocates re-entry fruition reached aggregate lifetime limbs birthed instinct  frightening tarry proper entire light  boundaries innocence pursuit ago discover left  youth's unknowing sacred time place meager  simple fact cast ceaseless wide-eyed literal  apparent coincidence create boldness morphed  crooked kempt mere stumble buried shutter fairy  pivotal definitive months worth shear ambition sound required journeyed self-reflections title  facets vague restless intimation gut wanderer's  leap motivate path account boy soon bears faith  question tripped reasons uproot awaited confronted days step heal provocations wisps crushing transcend chronicles instance  directness raw drove occurrence objective-less  real enters slightest confident nondescript  typify  foreshortened interment paradox bitter heart  devoid jeopardy angry sensation confidential guilty arrogance mercy compliance reprieve  vincent deadening factual sign emotion awe  inhibition shackled butterflies absence actual sciences acknowledgement violent stagnant  spiritual American doors roots lack matted fore  gestures society cause streams intensity hair impossible discord lonely hearts resounding  jest  what's flavored pains closed toxic contented  happenstance scientific knowledge yeah  wizardry shaking stifled withdrawn bloom  jitter dreads settle asocial hulton make  predisposed figurative reflections demeanors  wondered affect hulton's projected sense  morning industry arrays ghosts feeling  certainly endomorphic where's partially wrath  passer mornings jovial unease advertized asking  trash onward wished tempers media mentality connect pasts sharp-toothed scramble great colours trial test salvation continually lent  degree secretly subjection social waned  disconnected colors grimly intellectual civilization cash trading baffling particular  digest myths monumental ending seasons winter  repetition introducing agent everlasting  shoulders delivered honestly-- possession funny  continence history unsightly function suffering propulsion profession divulge familiar tugs era  importance capability perpetuation spite inventory words entirety leveling fray insight  date record continues writer getting evermore fellow tongue possessions identical proof accuracy education similar sack admittance  favor unravel conveyance guilt gives beginnings  predicting audacity definition bobby heady eaters frameless learned release stone grandeur sang  speak molds sleeps split built seats people folded  sheer pour evoked playhouse liquid boring  tellers frayed stark walked reality pleas doth  preformed shows beak pride squawks opinions  greatest bold stunning sightings he'd loudly slain  sunk watch legend precipice theater deeper compound commentator civility justly silly sin  reverent seen prophetic moral confounds notion  lacking explain attempt prolific viral estrange proclivity scorn hide blur pious strung eden's  horror cut skin arch cruel twig mother vile  pass lend woods peach shrunken trail man's canopy worn 434 eat warm limb familiar father delete.

You are what your reading lady. Now would you hold this gun?

You are asocial, my baby *****, you are gonna fail all your dreams,
At least you wanna do it, do it tastefully.
You are a sucker for esteem, what makes you think you ever need it.
There is a path between you and society,
I bet you would never walk it down.
All you ever wanna do was never to be noticed, not to let a single gaze fall upon you.
You think you've wandered all the streets of hell,
In fact, you've never stepped aside of your well.
Do you wanna suffer that bad, my darling?
Believe my word, there is no soul in this world that can appease you,
There is not a single tree you can lean on.
You got no taste, sweetheart, you are doomed to fall for the wrong guys,
You are fooled by mere hints, the truth then hits you harder, babe.
You stuck where others roam freely, your genius will die off without getting to blossom,
Because, you are asocial, my baby *****.
You are ****** *****, you are hard to catch.
You play that card and always **** up deeply.

Nature wants to Hi5 me
And I am too busy poking you on Facebook!

Asocial?
I've never seen it.
Maybe long ago, when a shy smile
sent us down the longest mile.

Talkative?
So he calls me.
Maybe I was at a time.
I said "I love you..." and suddenly we climbed.

Caring?
I just know it.
His trustworthiness knows no bounds.
I stubbornly doubt, but he pulls me out,
He always makes sure we avoid the drought.

Beautiful?
He likes to say.
The sun in his eyes, he assumes beauty
Lies underneath the blinding brilliance.
I fear my fun exterior has him in a trance.

Humorous?
Beyond belief.
My brutal honesty could never maim
His clever wit, nor put it to shame.

So who is he?
He lives in the future, restless and unsettled.
He lives in my mind, alive and real.
He is all that I need,
I just have to wish and hope and plead.

-
They say humans are social beings
Thats how we survive on this Earth
But I've realized some people will treat you like dirt
But that's cool
Because others will make you feel like you have worth
-
Being asocial does not mean
I don't communicate
I just don't want my life
To complicate
So I observe everyone
Trying to figure out who's real and who's fake
-
I know what you're probably thinking
"He's judging a book by its cover"
I don't judge, I do a simple reading
Kind of like skimming
Trying to figure out is the book really worth reading
Or am I gonna waste my time
Trying to complete it
Choose wisely
-
Lowkie©

A lowly wooden bench lent itself to a lonesome aged narrow man in a common garden in the smallest hour of the day’s beginning. In the thick haze of the summer’s waking light the common is thinly met with the company of others. Just an old man and his acquainted bench who came to give his eyes sight to the grass and trees, and to rid himself of thought.
He and the bench creak as he sits back; clutching at the satchel veiled among his dull drudged garb that bleeds into his pallid slack and cracked skin.
The wiry hairs bushed around his nostrils recoil to the deep inhale before the sigh, his yawning blue eyes sliding behind a milky glaze follow a bushy tailed rodent hurry into the confidence of a tree.
Through all nonchalance a pair of hobgoblin lugs under a brown woollen hat slides up the flanks of his head to outlying drowned tones of laddish laughs and lewd levity, an unseen clutch of kids filling the common’s spread with their foolish louting prances. Intimidating the preferred and performed with their innocuous idiocies; a mere asocial array of follies without the thought of good manner.
The thoughts of the old man are only briefly drawn; his ears leave the sounds of reckless recreation and back to the hushing song of the swaying grass, the rustling shake of the seasoned leaves on gorged and drooping branches. To his own wilted waning heart, the tremors, quiver and shivers within his own cage, his thoughts turned to his own temporal passage and to the re-joining of his love, of whom no longer lays her head on his shoulder, whom no longer wraps herself around his arm on the lowly park bench.
His lowest lip gives to an emotive tremble as he heaves himself over to the hem of the seat, his hands without any other part to play; frenetically tickle one another with frail kinked fingers.
With what little his body has left to give the eyes well to the upmost point of a tear, as he feels the weight of his wallet in his side trouser pocket against the rough of his skin. Where there within lays an image of a most loved face in a prized time, so that it may be remembered so it may fetch ease to a remittent floundering morsel of a man who could justly with the dead.
The photograph within his keeping need not be looked upon from under the shine of a laminated holding; it needs only to be there, only to be known that it is there.
The satchel was undid and fetched from within the clutter came an elderly notebook now held in his hands. A phlegmy husk of something said breeches his gummy chops, and he spits as he spat shouting out at the still of the garden.
“You should always write more than you do,” she would say, “you are better for it when you do and it lifts me as it does you, when you do.”
The old man reads from the notebook with a weak hate for the world.

“Am I for the worms yet? Am I to be from this rock?
Am I not yet too mad for this mad maddening world?
Four corners of an empty house, a homeless place of curling wallpaper and aloneness for company.
A room in a vagrant house with no light to fill it with a decrepit fool for a keeper
His stink stinks the walls for days as the blow flies form a speckled haze as they feast in filth of his unnoticed demise
With no manner of intention and for relation or friend, there is no cause and no mention for any to attend
He will rot with the house and his memory with it, with his memory does his love die and together they are ghosts in a world where ghosts do not exist.”

The old man pauses as he forcibly triggers one finger to his temple and ***** in his lips. His empty cries fall to a mumble as his hands tremble with his dear notebook in their grasp.

“Take me now cruel are the fates, take me now and rid me
The worms will welcome me, my flesh for an endless night
My life for a world without this life, for a life without his world
I would hold with a brim smile if it was not for my memory of her, if she was not to be lost at the close of this stint
I know not or want knowledge; I seek not of a design and not of meaning
Just a cure for this affliction for my must to her who brings me so much sorrow
Through blissful ages I can no longer hold, and can barely recall
We are all just people who will soon be once living, to be unlived and to forget is a conflict in myself
I have no answer as I have no question, you can have no answer to a question you do not seek nor ask
I dare not speak but I have no end for this, I have no solace and I have no end.”
The old man; the poor old man began to close his dear aged notebook and find the need to bring a smile, perhaps a moment of lunacy to calm the tightening knot beneath his breast.
He pulled a scratching cackle from the pit, wild and uncooked wiping the drool from the crook of his maw with the back of his blotched, mottled hand.
The old man found some seconds of a stoic amenity as his wild eyes grew gallant for those mere moments before the grey metal heft of his sullen vesture fell to his shoulders, he became heavy once more as the world retook him and cloaked again in the present - the light ebbed from him as swiftly as it came. The old man reproached his satchel to humbly return his dear old notebook.
There was a crack like a pick to ice with a hollow thud like a boot to wood as an immediately dissipating claret mist fizzed above his head. The make shift found-about cosh still swinging through the air and over his crown, the old man’s wilted body twisted and slumped to the floor face first. The concrete path before him tearing at the skin of his chin, his frail bones cracked as the meagre weight of his body forced itself into his neck. Laying perverse and unnatural the life was soaked up into his woollen hat and out across the concrete, to the grass – to the worms that writhed below the muck. His eyes were as lifeless as they were when he lived.
They did not wait for the gentle hiss of the spray or the bubbles that popped in the pool that surrounded the old man. They had snatched the satchel and ran off into the spread of the common until they were nothing but outlying drowned tones of laddish laughs and lewd levity.
Crazy old *******.
A lowly wooden bench has lent itself to a lonesome aged narrow man in a common garden in the smallest hour of the day’s beginning. In the thick haze of the summer’s waking light the common is thinly met with the company of others. Just an old man and his acquainted bench who came to give his eyes sight to the grass and trees, and to rid himself of thought.

Benign was yet another passer by to predisposed mentality
But both secretly wished somewhere beneath their tempers, demeanors, and myths
For the other to beg pardon for salvation at last; trading their ghosts and their pasts
The men of social civilization, disconnected by strange colors and baffling arrays of advertized trash..  asking where’s the rest of the cash?

So it may seem the wrath of industry, media, and projected reflections
Make trial and test for the all of the rest, connect and digest.

    Such was the spoken scramble of this morning in particular. It was no more and certainly no less jovial than what has continually been the subjection of mister Hulton’s consciousness. Often he wondered to what degree of affect had he been lent these sharp-toothed thoughts. For within him a feeling of great unease would settle as his mornings waned ever onward. Hulton; a man, or so he is told, was painted grimly by the colours of intellectual, asocial, endomorphic (in a figurative sense), and partially blind in at least one eye.

I have worn my heart on my sleeve. I have fallen hard & fast & head first. There was a time when I'd fall in love too easily - my heart was designed to nurture & care & love 100% .. Maybe it's a defect or maybe it's closer to perfection - the way God made me; but I do not have the capacity to love half-way.  I give it my everything: soul, breath & life! Unfortunately those I've loved have not been there: to cushion my fall; to put the brakes on my fall and help me stop with them; to put their arms out and catch me before I nose-dive. I have crashed & shattered & had my heart crushed.
That's why my heart is so guarded & protected - I keep it in the deepest archives - the catacombs - the vaults... The access codes are encrypted. The locks are super-enforced. So, some see me as cold & asocial, but it's just me being scared. But some who have that special vision that insight see through it. They know what the vaults contain & they are the victims of my fear. They are the ones that fight to gain access. Only the strongest ones do.......

How strong are you??

factual or fake
terse or sensationalist
trying to be as objective as possible
shamelessly partisan and polemic

or simply hate speech
esoteric remedies for all problems
cat videos and personal snapshots
on asocial networks

whether we believe it or not
it is difficult to avoid it
in our great age
of real-time digital information

the abundance of unreliables
is almost legendary    
     like hearsay in the Middle Ages
     when wandering minstrels
     spread the tidings
        more or less

a challenge to all people with brains
not yet oversaturated with daily trivia

to decide what to believe

doublecheck

do follow-ups

Too familiar with the unhealthy coping mechanism of numbing emptiness with mindlessness
Your hands are too tired of the math review you’re desperately trying to finish.
You find yourself
Tapping through Snapchat stories, barely paying attention to
The group selfies, of bright, well-lit rooms decked with Christmas decorations
Of red ribbons and green pine and mistletoe
Of the white glints of friends’ toothy smiles
Sometimes the snaps would be videos
With deafening, muffled sounds of cheers, people’s faces recognizable
Even when turned away, laughing, looking at the star, the subject of the snap
All the cameras point to her face as she dances
It’s a party, and the late realization makes you feel dumb
I wasn’t invited. But why would I be?
I’m the asocial one, the one who always has to politely decline with
“Sorry, I have to do homework, have to do this, have to do that”
They’re IB kids. You’re in AP. What’s your excuse?
You think as you sit in front of your fluorescent LED screen
The phone’s luminosity searing through your eyes
But you can’t tear them away from the festive scene playing in front of you.
They’re having fun. It’s nighttime, 11:04, 5 seconds in, but
The environment in your house versus theirs
Seem 12 hours apart, night and day,
You squint, because wow, everyone is there. The close ones, the acquaintances,
That one guy you had to sit next to once in homeroom.
It’s almost Christmas.
You glance around your room.
No cat in sight, mother upstairs, conked out.
Your phone isn’t even alive. The snap has long been over. No vibrations of incoming texts.
You sigh.
Only a semester left.
And your fingers wearily
Pick up the pencil
And you resume
Alone.

Misunderstood
Off putting
Asocial
Okay to speak to
But not worth the time
To peel back the layers
Judged on views that don't align
Just a walking stereotype
How many would truly miss
If I were to go and start anew
How many would even notice
That I wasn't around anymore
Old friends
New friends
Never will understand
Just how special they are
How much trust and love
You have to be given
To be let into this ones world

Before you go to the place burial
Before the world goes unreal
Before God ceases to be ideal
Before man becomes asocial
Before Money becomes viral
Stop Money from become visual.
When you give any approval
To let cruel Money be initial
Pave path pathetically deferral.
We know Money is very vital
Many for it with brothers quarrel.
Stop Money from become visual.
Human never before money trivial,
Money – a means to be happy total
Is a wrong belief as it is only defrayal.
Let be a man, lion, fox or camel
Be it gold, silver, iron or metal
Stop Money from become visual.
Why to treat Money so special
When human nature is acquittal?
Many times it needs one’s approval
To change man who is immoral:
God is watching You! Ye Mammal.
Stop Money from become visual.

Earth runs by mural
Grows on soil alluvial
Is more communal
And less commercial.
But all work illegal,
Love for such is official
All equal tasks disloyal.
But at Money’s arrival
They treat us special;
Bliss and bless us total
We are never trivial
Comes position initial.
Money is more disloyal
Will leave you at trial.
If one is in life’s trial
Success of Money final.
If you want to be ideal;
No value only Money vital.
Agree or not Money is real
As with it we are acquittal.
Don’t be completely asocial
No practice of immoral,
It leads to God’s dismissal;
As we are never trivial
Comes position initial.

There are times when you feel like
reaching out..............full length,
to grasp -
the ultimate;
something, which you will not like
to dispense away with
no matter who leaves or alights.

Somewhere, from where you will never waver
again -
an Equilibrium.

But most of the times, the best you can do
is to swish your hand and latch on to;
thin, slippery, lukewarm air, vanishing as a wraith
into a starless, roiled chasm......
and you are viciously abandoned
amidst the pungent whiffs
of the random metropolis.

Every night I lean against the rusted gate
of this modest rented apartment
and give a fish eye to the stillborn night.

I see a lean column of smoke from a smokeshaft
...obscure...far off;
reaching out......for the stars
cruelly dispersed by grimy draft.

I see the flickering, pale beam;
the solitary, asocial gleam
of the municipal  lamp;
reaching out meekly....towards me,
getting devoured in a frenzy
by the soft, persistent charge
of the relentless molecules of dark.

✽

And loneliness becomes admissible....
.....again

isolation
deprivation
lost sense of self

bored and lonely
stressed and depressed
shell of my former self

asocial
introverted
no drive for life

faking elated
going through the motions
lost in this world, so cold

hate myself
hate others
i can't do this anymore

craving attention
fearful of being seen
God surely looks ashamedly onto me

wishing I was dead
praying for death
this ****** poem needs to end

the siege is lifting,  the viral apocalypse fading. i am a lucky one, weary, ready to move on, wanting normal, of days gone by.

everything i knew, every belief i had, is about to change, i am not ready, for the brave new world of animal farm.

i am tuned in, nothing is important, time a blur, sober is depressing, nothing turns me on, leave me alone, so i can drop out.

living the nightmare of behavioral sink, pathologically withdrawn, suffering the indifference of the beautiful ones, how do i survive, the asocial haze of universe 25.

...And all these tidings oh, aren't they kind
that spill o'er from this unnatural chalice
white as milk my eyes are blind
to all the glinting swords waving in my mind
shred to pieces a cause resigned,
no more rebellion they will find...
and all those tidings from ribbons meant to bind

Gilded Sun show not your brilliant favor
shower warmth on a needy soul
let the loyal be rewarded, for we so often waver
shine a path up from the caverns, we can dig ourselves out of this hole
let us go, the plea of a flea circus, do not hurt us
I will walk your great and mighty beam
and every day await to awake from this daydream
all for the conviction, my sentence, the show
I'm nobody's savior, oh no, a willing sacrifice; alarmingly so,
only on one condition, let us go

Follow tomorrow, led by the nose
tunnel vision, directed away from sewers of sorrow
and where today stops, I don't even know where it goes
I plan nothing in advance on the off chance a spare moment may borrow
itself from my bones, a sparrow may pick flecks of my dust to share with crows
a ****** I witness and testify to begin this merry-go-round of macabre-pity-wallow
here to eternity and then back again, taking the elephant for a spin, never forget the basic woes
that years you spend, your poems, stories and life you upend, sharing deeper until your eyes adjust to depths and it's too bright in the shallows
the land is a foreign concept, all language and things upon it you handle inept, your behavior is strange and it shows
you remember your hallucinatory machinations of an insomniac's spell, burnt vulture candles from the tallows
that forbidden longing is now allowed inside, to backslide and consume all these connections, before anyone knows
this monster they love wears the skin of a friend and lurks in his shadows, a phantom life that follows

As with the limbs no longer here, but grasping, the organs gone, but pulsing, this intersection of two lives
one planted in my heart, and many more splintered off, phasing in and out as knives
a brain like a broken bone, a compounded fracture that never healed right
I stand on my own, a boot and no crutch, I face myself every night
spitting mad at the belief in destiny, my own cancer is me, it's hard to choose to fight
every waking moment there is the angry and driven and smarter voice who knows what he wants
almost asocial in demeanor, vicious and calculating with his moral mathematics, abusive with his taunts
and I have been him and so much more
he is only a step inside of an open door
to the quelled abomination,
somehow I keep this glass bottle that contains the note Tom running and happy
motivated, inspired, alive and in one piece, not at peace, not evil, not truly
with my frayed edges, shredding inward, toward tearing myself apart slowly
at bay enough to get far away enough that I will greet myself when I return with confetti

...And all these tidings oh, aren't they kind?