The parasympathetic nervous system
is responsible for regulations
unconsciously transpiring
within the organs and
the glands of
the body.
Such as:
urination, salivation, digestion, defecation, and
lacrimation
(noun. ‘the flow of tears’. Latin.
from lacrimare (‘weep’) and lacrima (‘tear’).
It’s why I cry
even when I don’t want to.
You are the parasympathetic nervous system.

The (ortho-)sympathetic nervous system
is responsible for the mobilization
of the fight-or-flight response
and constantly maintaining
homeostasis within
the body.
It acts
rapidly, enacting an attempt at stability and
the necessary and critical ability
to suddenly escape
on pulsing legs or
cling to survival through
brandishing adrenaline-doused knuckles
and dilated pupils.
It’s why you live
even when you don’t want to.
I am the sympathetic nervous system.

The parasympathetic and sympathetic nervous systems
are two of three essential nervous systems which
compose the autonomic nervous system
(a part of the peripheral
nervous system)
that manages
involuntary
functions of the body. Such as:
swallowing, perspiration, arousal, breathing, and
heart rate
(noun. ‘the speed of the heartbeat’.
usually expressed in beats per minute. mine speeds up when I see you).
Individually these two systems oppose
but compliment
each other like our hands do—
pressed together and omitting equal force;
veins meeting
at the fingertips and throbbing at the wrists
but running amuck on our respective digits otherwise.
You are the invariable and unspoken reminder to
breath,
love,
sweat,
and live.
I am the sudden snap of reality always aiming to save you
but grudgingly willing to fight you and
ready
to
leave.

From the deepest lower half of my brainstem
and from every nerve
in my cycling body,
I’m sorry.
From all of my chromaffin cells
and from the truest parts of submandibular ganglian,

I am sorry.

10 Years of Discretion
9 Months of Persecution
8 Semesters of Imitation
7 Weeks of Affliction
6 Days of Temptation
5 Hours of drug Consumption
4 Minutes of thought Malfunction
3 Moments of Desperation
2 Seconds until Eradication
1 Life of Lacrimation

The time has come forth to ponder and think,
about the spiritual planes that are reluctantly unforeseen.
Of the dimensions that are surreal to those who use emotion and feel.
The mind creates an undeniable creation that disguises itself to be real.

Enduring and speculating on the thought of consciousness and love;
one will realize the reality of our minds perception defying the dogmatic breeding brawl.
Although our minds potential is finite and cleverly obscured;
we will begin to witness the marching of shooting stars so pure.

Imminently clear, we begin to reach a higher plane of degree.
Meditating to the point where we become one with the universe without plea.
Encompassing the ethereal and uncovering half-truths,
perceiving the ultimate correspondence intelligently and shrewd.

Where will one travel amidst the taunt of death and fear?
To a place that is all well too known, a herd of aimless tears.
Lacrimation will enlighten those when they have fallen in the solstices peak.
To experience a world that was previously known as a philosophical creation by the streams.

Metaphysical questions will mark its toll to the soul who learns to decipher no more.
Otherwise, contentions will cause despair and half truths will then have to bear.
Inducing a different consciousness to a degree not explored before;
one will embark on a alchemic journey of the mental transmutation to the inner soul.

Mental creation spurs the ****** of the universal degree of spirit and mind.
An illusion so concurrent to the law depicted within our eyes alter-mind.
Deception will avail to those who blindly believe they have prevailed;
when attempting to solve the riddle behind the creator of the tale.

By: Michael M. De La Fuente

I chip away at the painted walls-
clinical white.
They say the color is supposed to soothe, but I argue that notion.
A combination of cheap mascara and a restrained, yet highly impulsive, lacrimation reflex has dried itself over my eyelashes.
"steadfast, firm..." I tell myself that I am, like my father's mother.
Unwanted feelings rising through my throat I shove back down to my hollow gut.
An artform.
The raw pickings on my legs have become even more vibrant in color as my complexion has become increasingly transparent.
After all, that is what autumn is for.
I soothe the crimson marks by reminding them I am "independent, feral..." like my mother's mother.
My remedies for a nostalgic, peculiar time.
Necessary preparation for the **** winter.

Bullets cut through the air.
Making noise that would drop Napoleon to his knees.
This night has turned into a screaming prayer for death.
Forgetting the definition of pleasure.
Dealing with the immanentism of pain.

Dwelling in this world unknown to most,
Has become common place to one.
So common to which lacrimation has become all too ordinary.
Come to find out this is all nothing more than
MONDAY.

People often talk of events,
but rarely of their sequence

I firmly believe that the past
prepares for the present
and the present
prepares for the future

and if the present came to you in the past
you will fall on the ground
and bleed all the prayers known to man

your eyes are constantly crying
removing all dirt from your eyes, dear
don't let anyone shame you
for over-lacrimation at times

Remember that its never more
than you can bear
and that your hunchback
may look like poor lifestyle choices
to some-
but I know
your back is adapting
to the weight it has
to carry

the body is strong,
but the mind is stronger,
denial is a strong weapon
don't let anyone tell you
its a weakness

If love hurts then why do we do it?
Loneliness is easier I’d say
Why not walk to the lake and skip stones for a bit?
No need to waste thoughts and throw time away

The game of love is not one to fool with
One day everything’s going great, and the next  only lacrimation remains
I truly believe true love is some twisted old myth
Nothing on earth except drugs makes you feel all sunshine and sweet candy canes

While my apathy shines bright as the moon in the night
I have nothing more to say except love bites