I'm chained to this wall,
A belt round my neck,
Tongue tied, cannot call,
My heart's a ship wreck,

Sunken to the soul,
Where no light enters,
Just like this hell hole,
Where insanity centres,

Encaging patients,
Deemed untreatable,
Losing their patience,
With nurses incapable,

Of treating our minds,
The pain in our veins,
Or pain they can't find,
"Hopeless" they claim,

But in this darkness,
Fear is controlling,
Just like the madness,
Existing in the nursing,

And pain turns to death,
As rain turns to tears,
While they take their last breath,
For screams that last years

My iridescent wings fall to the ground as I hear a tapping on the wall.

A promise was broken.

Violent, repetitive, ringing relentlessly through my ears. I am growing weaker by the sheer sound of it and I've lost my ability to fly away. I start shrinking, shriveling, minimizing to a small bundled form. Without warning, plates cascade around me forming a cold metal cocoon.

This is what I never thought I'd feel, what I never thought I'd see. This is hopelessness, insecurity, low self esteem, this is my own bitter purgatory imprisoning my limbs and encaging the full extent of my body.

It's like a snow storm in the middle of summer, a lone wolf lost in unknown woods. It's like a being trapped in a cave with no light or sound, and when you scream, you're lucky if you hear so much as an echo.

This is demetamorphisis.

The ultimate loss of hope in the universe. I see no cracks of light shining through, I can no longer smell of the sweet scent of grass, or taste the warmth of the sun. I can't grow or learn, I can only just "be." I am stuck and for now there is no way out because no one actually knows that this is happening.

This is just another way of coping.

My hands entire in splits
from the broken fences
you managed to escape from.
Old memories soak tendons,
douse fingertips; ignite.

Suns set and the metals
in my blood
no longer act as a magnetic
means of reeling in our stars.
My palms are a midnight prism,
encaging bruised hearts
below broken darkness,
under thickening skin.
I no longer expect you to return.

Yet these 27 bones
still manage to remember you.

Once upon a time,
I was your hero.
I would come to your side,
Sword in hand and defend until I could no longer breath or stand and even then
I’d fight.
I’d wipe your eyes dry and tell you everything was alright.
Once upon a time,
I did my job too well.
I guess I built you up so high, you can see that I’m not so strong, that I can be wrong and so you take me and break me down.
I try to get through to you one day. I ask for you to come and play and remember the days we’d spend together.
But you don’t want to.
You don’t need me anymore.
You have better thoughts to think about and better friends to think thoughts to.
And I’ve become nothing in the eyes of you.
So, I want to climb up to where you think you stand and look you in the eye but you look down at your hands.
So, I keep climbing, higher and higher until I can look down on you. But that’s not fair.
So, instead, I tilt my head back to the sky and shout:
Who are you?!
And start to cry.
But you don’t hear me.
No, you have headphones in your ears, thoughts in the clouds, feet off the ground and a keyboard at your fingertips.
To you, everything’s fine. To you.
To me, I see us falling apart. I see ice slowly encaging your heart. And it hurts me.
But why? Isn’t this what I wanted you to be?
That’s not why I cry. You don’t need me and that’s just fine, but still, I hurt...
Because, once upon a time,
You were my hero.
My rock, my crutches, my voice of reason.
Now your voice just dissolves into noise and I see you as a stranger on the street. One who won’t help me on my feet but knock me down.
I watch you walk away. I sit on the ground, thinking “There’ goes my happy ending”.

A prison planet veiled by an electromagnetic net,
Inducing amnesia, erasing past lives, millennia of experiences and replaces the mind with robotic self destructing thoughts built to keep the slave system ever going
Encaging souls to never be free from this biological prison
Shells recycling through, now the idea of reincarnation finally is put into clear view
Born again to lie wait in the hellish purgatory asked to enter the light
The light is the trap
The light is what brings you back to the Earth, the dumping ground for untouchable souls.
For souls always slaving for eternity.
Then what is the way out,
The way out is where?
Where is that we belong?
Why are the questions too unreachable?
And when I float on,
Will I be erased again and placed back into the stream, the norm, the low class untouchables?
Is there no way to be truly free, to travel the universes without the fear of capture.
I am at ends looking for the start but where the start begins is something I truly do not understand

It was the first party she was invited to, she knew that the only reason people wanted her to come was because she was having a fling with one of the popular kids. One of the guys who wore the short shorts and southern tide shirts with his hat flipped backwards. She didn't even like the sight herself, but she had just been broken up with from her previous boyfriend and she was feeling lonely. He came onto her about one month after the break up, it was the middle of summer and he was always around hanging out with her brother. She remembered the time when she first really noticed him, they were picking up her brother from work late and night and she was switching from the driver’s seat to the back seat. She was moving things out of the seat when suddenly her brother pulled forward in the car and the wheel was on top of her foot. She was screaming to the top of her lungs and as Brandon leaped out of the car Andrew finally drove forward and the tire slowly released her foot. Brandon picked her up like a husband picks up his wife when they first get married. He placed her in the seat and untied her shoe trying to relieve the pressure. It was the size of a cantaloupe. She was crying from all the pain and her brother raced home to get her mom. They pulled up beside the house and Brandon came to the side and picked her up again cradled in his arms, he placed her on the couch and sat beside her to wipe away the tears streaming from her face.

Brandon taps her shoulder and she realized she was day dreaming of a better time, he motioned forward to the table and she realized that someone had poured shots. "Great" she thought, "the last thing I want to do is drink ***** with all these people around me." She took one and all the sudden everyone was cheering. Thinking to herself she wanted to get as far from here as possible but she didn't want to be the "loser" everyone thought she was. "You look stunning tonight." Brandon said when he was close to her ear. "Thanks, it's kind of a stupid costume thought don't you think?"
"Not at all, you look nice as a **** Santa." She felt so uncomfortable in that stupid costume, she went shopping two weekends ago to the Halloween store next to the mall. She couldn't decide what to wear so her friend picked out a "**** Santa" costume and said that all the guys would notice her in this. She felt her stomach turn. She didn't want people to notice her but she didn't think she could look at these ridiculous costumes any longer.

I feel so out of place, she thought to herself as the drinking went on and the music was growing louder. I don't belong with these people. Brandon wrapped his hands around her waist and she could smell the alcohol coming from his mouth as he tried to kiss her, he was beyond wasted. "Don't you think you might want to slow down a little bit?" She said to him. "What's wrong, this is a party you should be as drunk as I am." He laughed so loud, if she was deaf she would have been able to hear him. It was past midnight and she was getting sleepy, she figured she needed to slow down so she could actually drive back home. She was staying at her mom’s place so her mom wouldn't care if she came home wasted. Why not right? It's a party. So she drank until the room was spinning and she couldn’t stop giggling. She grabbed the bottle and chugged, “Woah, look who was telling me to slow done, how about yourself?” She laughed, “Well I thought you said I should have fun, this is what fun looks like right?” “Do you want to get out of here?” As soon as the words came out of his mouth she headed for the toilet and threw up whatever she was drinking and the dinner she ate before the party.  Brandon had sobered up overtime and drove her car home to her place, with her head hanging out the window so she didn’t throw up everywhere in her car. He pulled up outside her house and she already knew the words that were going to come out of his mouth, “Can I stay?” She felt her stomach turn to knots, and as she worked up the courage to say yes, she threw up right outside her front door in the bushes. He helped her up the stairs to her room, and she told him he could stay if he wanted. So he did. She wasn’t feeling as dizzy anymore so she finally changed into shorts and a tank top for bed. Brandon was laying in his boxers, and although she liked the sight she wasn’t sure this is what she wanted, but her thoughts were all jumbled together anyways she couldn’t think straight. Laying down, the dizziness came back and her stomach felt uneasy, she didn’t know if it was from the ***** or because an eighteen year old boy was basically naked lying beside her. She wanted to tell him that this was a bad idea and he should just go home but she knew he wouldn’t listen, he never did.

The clock turned to three am, and she felt him push against her, she looked over at him wondering what he was trying to communicate to her, and that’s when she realized he wanted to have ***. All she could think was no. There was no way she was losing her virginity on Halloween night when she’s still drunk and can barely see straight. Her thoughts couldn’t make their way to her mouth. She felt like a mime, only able to speak with her hands, but she couldn’t even move. His hands were now on her stomach forcing down her shorts and underwear. All she could think was no. There wasn’t a sound able to escape her mouth. She was trying to wiggle her way out of his touch but his grip suddenly tightened around her stomach keeping her stationary. Her moved his body on top of her and began forcing himself upon her. Tears were staining her bed sheets but she wasn’t screaming for help, her mouth wouldn’t let her. Instead, she cried silently still trying to break free from his body encaging her like a prison. He forced himself upon her again and kept forcing himself until she started to wail. He acted as if he didn’t hear her. No, this is not what I wanted, this isn’t what was supposed to happen. Why is he doing this? She thought as he pushed harder unto her. He loosened his grasp on her arms and she broke from his prison and ran to the bathroom, there was blood, so much blood. Red marks covered her arms and thighs. She didn’t want to go back in there but she didn’t know what else to do, she waited thirty minutes before entering her room only to realize he was fast asleep. She noticed all the blood on the sheets and just cried herself to sleep.

It was sometime in the early morning when she woke up, and he was gone. She heard someone at the door and shot up wondering if it was him, she peeked out the curtains and let out a sigh, Thank god it’s not him, was all she could think. She walked down the stairs realizing how much her body ached. Opening the door, her best friend walked in and she lost it. She began crying in her friends arms telling her everything that had happened last night and all her friend could do was stand there in shock until she finally stopped crying. “You have to go to the police!” Amber said. “No, Amber I was so drunk and stupid they won’t believe me when I tell them what happened. They will tell me that it wasn’t ****. They will tell me that I didn’t say no!” she cried. “Michelle, if you don’t go to the police your just going to let him get away with this? I told you her was a horrible person and yet you still fell for his stupid tricks and look what happened. He ***** you Michelle, can’t you understand that?” “Yes, I do understand. But I didn’t say no, I didn’t scream to get him off of me I just laid there imprisoned and took it.” She said so quietly it wasn’t even a whisper. “I’m so sorry.” Amber said and she motioned for Michelle to come into her arms for an embrace. “It will be okay.”

See this old fishin' reel snarled? A waste of time to untie
what can be re-tied
and, and is a big junction in the start of a story, and
after retying, be used for it's purpose,

see, if a retie won't work, you know, this monofilial-******
fibratory idea's slippery,
inside outside one way optical influence, IF
this was that situation then this knot would call patience
to bher the burden of learning to
un ravel a snarl of expert's ties to rights which they hoped would never slip, as they stepped into next...

in this instance, fishin', out in the gypsum beds,
ancient corals once grew,

-- real life Lake Mead, who was Mead? A man who executed a plan
to dam the Colorado,
and the whole world heard the whales in Baja weep, but we have learned.
We go on

learning earth has lived through
times and times and times

a gathering must have first

seemed a good idea,
by then, by the point any story can stand, but first, a
point upon a time,

tricky balance act, takes this much of ever to imagine right,

many Planck-secs and Google-plexhours past
way back when
we the earthy sapient beings, be came, ere
we were
human, we were

what? Not angels and demons, those need so much more time to evolve than this.
Word stuff,
Poetry.
This is the third millennial bubble
begin
when my da was working in Alamogordo, '44.

I'll go see, live or die, try

to remember, who took the doorstop? Feynman said it was platinum

This is default download from the germs,
first tasted in open air on a moment you imagine you remember,
you can now imagine being born and no scarier story need be known
--- past now is only next, never never,
--- always a place to step
--- there, be
--- still
--- connection secure
knots of knowns, are knowledges, gotten with wisdom
getting, as we mellow and
ripen to re
al ize
common sense complexes of knowns needed to operate earth,

these aphoristic word frames encaging emotions we
need gage theory to envision, these
we believe, are edged in the sort of dust
a diamond farmer might use to shine a mirror

here, we give such a mirror to
each child surviving you,
should you
have survived, thus far,
you must
find
your kind, in the will,
your kind inherits the earth, and
if you
stir things, meek as Moses, make some trouble in you own 'ouse,
see, we
double dip, we inherit the wind, as well.

Earth is the whole biosphere, here. Thus, the troubler of the house of knots worth untying, begins to unravel the snarls and straighten
this knotted thread

to spite the micro-bio leaven pollen dust enclosed, as a curious bee
leaves a little could be
upon this line, where this knot
fast-bound,

we know

Hermes-tic click sealed since a known
knowable was tied in this
wordy
very complex bit of re
lated things, things known knowable in theory,

now, power is back on, it is 2019, on land once involved

with a story begun in 2018, when the power went off,
bowing to a named wind… as did the fire that year, too.

--- what have we learned?
knowledge means locked knowing, click. A knot, after a previous knot,
no feathers or stones of seed,
a touch of shaken pollen,
from a bee-- such

we be leaven be, long, long, long strings of knots and fibers marking

needle-point story stitching, sinking
into ancient ancient sapience,

unimagined - ha- nadas unimaginable ifn ye magine it...

we bee safe in this us, this we, the people who hold truth

learned today as tightly as our kind holds truths,
as treasures found, stolen, lost, bought, stolen, lost, found, taken as granted,

this legacy of ideas fit to words fit to my tongue, tasted, tested, spoken,

yea, for ever, in every imaginable sense,
AI account for every idle word,
uttered
which may ever be ab-
used by some here-tic wishyawasme.

Loving my enemies is one of those things,
I take with a grain of salt,
knowing there's room for hate in love,

as there's a set for null in all,
assets-wise

big data is how 2019 functions, idle word
counting algorithms,

are mining all myths and shipping manifests
for clues to who's making money
seem worth dying for,

in mortal terms.

Amusers are first paid in amusement.
Is the roofer dancing?

Peace is heaven, I heard, my word, I said,

heaven and it's kingdom are,
in me, if i examine my
self-logo, my brand,
my mark left to my children's thousandth generation,
who have survived
the upgrade.

Peacemakers who survive dimensional novel bubble-life,
mememeory Y as y in in all working things,


a knot is a stop, a step, where a knower of all as far as you know,

once, stood. The boy walking the trail marked

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

From <https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+8%3A28&version=KJV>

This is on the trail very far along after the sign saying
this is the path less traveled by,

still.

I was once aching flesh
On worn down bones
Encaging a restless heart

You were the cure
The ailment
You were everything

I am ****** up and insane

All you're providing me is pain

I can't stand these thoughts in my brain

Pouring down like acid rain

Encaging me within these chains

Bringing forth this addictive *******

Stopping me from jumping in front of a train

Saving me from falling out of a plane

Not understanding what I have to restrain

In order to collect this urge to sustain

This disturbing feeling of being humane

So that I don't have to break my veins

In order not to ******* complain

Avoiding feeding you disdain

So that I don't have to be mundane

Because I'm not allowed to be profane

While you're trying so hard to attain

Just a tiny bit of intelligence and a lot of champagne

Your stupidity and inhumanity I do not contain

I'm fighting alone just to constrain

And further more I refuse to entertain

I'm sick and tired of being on your terrain

This control you had you will not regain

I regret to inform you: I am not your great dane

The casing we cling onto so greatly
reassures us that indeed we do exist,
for our impalpable spirit
at times, appears merely a dream.

Our eyes in which we look so deep
as if attempting to grasp the within,
shining bliss or saddenedly opaque
dilate at every fascinating detection,

our hair of many colours, curly or straight
a frame to our visage round or oval
we recognise as ours, reflected on
crafted sea sand for us not to forget,

who we are, focusing on its features
one by one, wrinkles portraying
our escapades scrutinised in search
of traces of happiness amid the many scars,

as a central protuberance inhaling
detects scents of others
registered to elicit memories, red lips
our mouth uttering sounds we call words

through vibrating vocal chords stored
in our throat, our neck tirelessly supporting
the head, on our shoulders bearing
the knots revealing our frustrations

insanity, while arms are still willing
and able to carry out intentions,
five fingered hands at their extremities
to mould ideas give them space

in the physical realm, our torso
encaging to protect muscles
pumping life where distinction
is made between woman and man,

for she in clothing hides her *******
of nourishment for progeny to grow,
our stomach flat or bloated conceals
a second mind, enteric nervous system

responding to emotions, our pelvic
cavity beneath, where reproductive organs
give, pleasure to the living
engendering new lives, our thighs,

knees and calves supporting
our every motion so that we
could wander the land discover
understand, our feet

rooted to the ground for balance,
for us not to loose touch
with reality fly away
in realms of fantasy, our skin

delicate involucre of it all, shelling
our skeleton keeping us *****, protecting
trillions of cells
unfathomably combining to compose,

us.

Corona might be bio-weapon
Or some contagious oblivion;
Either man made it to avenge
Or it's nature's poetic revenge.

The worst of all the mammals
Rather the worst among animals,
Who have been encaging others
Are themselves all in fetters.

They, the strongest on this earth
Were too weak on their birth,
Slowly they climbed up the ladder;
The weakest of all became stronger.

They twisted the encircling nature
And utterly distorted their mother.
For needs of own, selfish they are,
Manipulated their mother nature.

These animals never ever danced
And mated with chicks tranced.
They ***** instead, in gangs
And killed, mutilating intestines.

Addicted to power they constantly ****,
Killing own people has turned a thrill.
Designed ethics and isms to put to order
But to convert they went on to plunder.

They wage wars to slaughter their kin
Who perish pierced by iron and tin.
They drop bombs to mangle civilizations
Accelerating the doom by slain actions.

Atom bombs are almost being hurled
Mankind have spoilt the ****** world.
But nature has now, at last, retaliated
After being constantly so mutilated.

Encaging the uncaged she is relieved
Though the mother within is bereaved.
They literally questioned her entity,
Her offsprings breached her sanctity.

Sea-water level is no more surging
As icebergs have now stopped melting.
Swans are back to the forbidden tanks,
Dolfins swirl again near to the banks.

Air is purer as it was during the birth
When mankind trespassed on this earth,
Pollution receding in cities constantly
Nature getting better spontaneously. (2020)