The effects of poverty on children
&
The development of maladaptive behaviors
a.k.a survival instinct to
in victims of childhood abuse
&
In children of mothers with mental illness

See:  Schizophrenia births ******-                               affective bipolar set-up borderline personality

&
Of Broken promises and
Of divorce
on toddlers
Subject to
Hypochondriacal
Dissociative identity disorder maniacal
Munchuasen syndrome
&
Development of anorexia in girls whose mothers
tell them they are fat
And not to eat
At the age of 3
And do not keep
food in the house
&
Of memory loss on survivors of ******
**** perpetual at brother's behest
Sibling rival/sociopath/hater
Initiate secrets to swallow later
Same same high school juvenile
English teacher hebophile
Lies beget lies with no adult supervision
Predators penetrate without permission
Especially favored males
above suspicion

Back to back with

Court ordered
reverse abduction
Too much too late
Overt overprotection
premature prepubescent
irreversible independence
****** up DNA lifetime sentence
Survivor guilt/too young to choose
Either way at 12 years old you lose
Tough love authoritarianism
Vs.
Prodromal adolescent survivalism
Now no court dare insist
which insanity trumps which
Coupled with
Biological mother "crazy" trash-talk
Teenage runaway as soon as she can walk
&
Development of trust issues
Normalized by chronic
neglect and abuse
Hyper vigilant of subtext
Double super mega
Abandonment complex
Stockholm syndrome and PTSD
Dissociation in abductees
(Comfortable with recreating tragedies)
Within exploded families
Where the truth is an accumulation
Of what is not acknowledged

diagnostic checklists
Symptoms life synopsis
Doctors office doctors office
Taper off, titraite this
between pages tranquillized
Quoth the holy DSM V
Artificial life artificial life

As dirt swept under the rug
So much dirt makes a pile
So big a pile makes a child
A child makes too much noise
Ignore her
Tell her to shut up
Make her shut up
She is a liar
Put her in the closet
Do not feed the girl child
She needs too much
She is too much
Takes up too much room
Even in the womb
It's ok if she goes away
If someone takes her one day
If she dies
If her brother wants to **** her
And tries
Pretend she is dead

Mother didn't do anything
Wrong after all
No proof
No evidence
Just a child never born
To steal the glow of
Psychosis from the flaming eyes
Of a mother crossed
Who also never saw adulthood coming

Through the delusions, the chaos
Inherent crime without cost
You can't blame us
Born and raised already lost

Generations of children
Who make bad adults
Potential unfulfilled
And it's nobody's fault.

I live in a world of over abundance and overprotection,
With two little gates keeping me in and holding me back,
Like the harness around the sidewalk-dog's neck.
His owners stroll down softly rolling roads,
Passing the cookie cutter stucco homes
With the porch lights that never flicker imperfection.
The pedestrians amble with fingers interlocked
And kept behind their backs,
Like a secret they can't help but hide
From whatever may crumble or shine outside the gates.

I've got incisions,
From my intuition,
Telling me to grip,
This bare blade tightly.

I constantly contemplate the killings.
Never someone I know,
Always strangers.

I envision the moans they'd make,
If I ever came to commit.
When I bare blood upon my blade,
And bring to life my first offense.

It's hardly out of anger,
Simply misplaced aggression,
And overprotection,
Of every type of human danger.

I see my psychiatric state,
Is unstable.
And if it ever came to it,
I know that I'd be able,
To draw upon a passerby,
With only bad intentions.
And create a ******* carcass,
Out of a criminal on a mission.

I’m not asking for an excuse,
I’m not saying I feel abuse

But my mind and my soul
Lacking explanation, stay cold.

Surprises promised, love attached,
Care for me, explanations lack

You claim incapability,
You claim to not see me

Your explanations lack gravity
And truth is lacking as far as I can see

WHY CAN'T YOU SEE ME?
WHAT’S WRONG, WHAT’S LACKING FROM ME?
HAVE I DONE SOMETHING WRONG?
WHY CAN’T YOU SEE?
THIS ISN’T A JOKE
YOU’RE HURTING ME!

I regret yelling that,
But I know I can’t take it back
You tell me not to erase poetry,
But that isn’t me, that screaming banshee.

I should stop
Cease and desist
Overreaction
I just wish to be kissed

But I can’t stop overthinking
What do you mean?

Is there a reason you won’t meet my eyes?
Is there any possibility of lies?

I know the answer
Burning in me like a cancer

Killing my will
Trying harder still

Pining for your gaze,
You won’t meet my eyes
I try to count the ways
It’s possible that I’m despised

You laugh as you say it,
You won’t hold my only contact,
My heart still being crushed
Forced to be compact

Why is it funny?
What have I missed?
Why are you laughing?
What’s so funny about destroying my existence?

Not even a glance.
There wasn’t a chance
The lack of your eyes
Stabs like a lance

I don’t understand,
What’s the surprise?
What’s so important?
It matters more than my eyes?

My chest is burning
My throat in flames
Is there a reason?
An explanation for my pains?

An explanation would solve all
And save my heart, before it falls
I hear your name from my heart
As out for you it calls.
But I can’t cry
The tears refuse
But in your gaze
I wasn’t allowed refuge

Overthinking the whole thing
Of that I’m the king
You’d think by now my head would ring
With all the times, to you I cling

Overprotection is an excuse
Overreaction is the truth
The only real explanation
Is the shame that comes with my emancipation

Freedom leading to my demise
My words coming back, this time as cries

I tried to be civilized until I realized ....
... That ain't never going to be me
For some it may be the door to success
To me it's always been just another lock door
And I ain't got no effing key
Won't try knocking or ringing the bell
Cuz there ain't nobody inside that I need to see

So I just kept on walking and then  I began  to notice
all the windows were full of people
nd all those people
Were staring out at me.

I tried waving as I was passing
All I got in return was blank stares at me
It was as if they had no clue
As to what it is that  they should do
I want to say I'm as sorry as I can be
If one of those people turns out to be you

Those who believe that the fancy overpriced car
Makes them who they are
or followung  what is  trending
from day to day
In order to decide what is good
Without making up their own mind
As to why it is said to be so......
So?
Soooo .....so WHAT?

If everyone in the world turned their back on you
Would you take this as a clue...
...about what it takes to be you?
Or will you turn your back the same
In order not to stand out or be noticed
By joining the clic

To become  just another unmorticed brick...
...in the wall?
Then that click click....clickity clack
sound
You hear echoing loud and clear
Will be the sound of my shoes quick steppin
Getting me the hell out of here

Are any of your opinions
From you and you alone... or you
as one of the minions
Or .. do you truly not know,...
Then I hope it's understood
that the question
Will never be answered
Nor will the non-answer ever be questioned

For no one but you has a single clue
When it comes to what you truly believe.

Following the trends in order to make friends
That's what is commonly called
a means to an end
or - too often -simply just dust in the winds

Like a young sapling in the woods
without any means to defend
Bebt to and fro
While at the mercy of the prevailing winds
That aids in its flexibility...
...ensuring it has the facility
To take on the heavy winds of lifes ever changing courses
Going stronger evermore
by using the winds own forces
while across the way
  that sheltered oak
Growing in the enormous shadow of a most magnificent oak
With its ability
to obscure even the most ardent of prevailing winds
Ensuring that it's prodigy
grows tall and straight ...
and never bends . Until the day
eventually comes
The results of nature's whims lightning.... fire or as time and age descends
Upon the spot so long occupied

Left alone and on its own
There stands the acorn born
magestic  oaks living clone.. as it were.... Although sad to say it is not.

It's a structure standing
Of rigid stance.
Sans crowning joy
Or twisted limbs
Courtesy of the over protection
That afforded it no chance .... No chance to be itself
And  live its own life.


*
*

We will be back for this one soon enough "said the arborist " who had accompanied the forestry crew as the they ascended upon the backwoods and heavy forest on a mercy mission to safely bring down and salvage the old growth wood of the  mighty oak.
" What's that you say there Bert?" said Bob Aaron the crew chief .
" I said that we ..or as you might put it Bob....Oh heck  in a hand basket listen to this" and he slapped palm to trunk and the drum beat ( as old as time itself ) announced the emptyness within .
  " Oh Good golly what do you think happened to it b/c she sure looks good from the outside.?"
   "A lot of things I suppose happened in this time here ,..but mostly what didn't happen that did most damage as it was shaded from the Sun... protected from the winds and h ail or lightning and was essentially doomed by overprotection and not being able to live the kind of life where one needs a few hard knocks and stresses put upon it..... In order to grow strong and have a solid interior or soul - you might say "
"Well I'll be darned as a fisherman's sock Bert .,. You're a poet and a philosopher."
  " Well, maybe so.. but mostly I'm an arborist and my job is to make things strong, give it the  ability to live better ...or decide when their time has come to give up the ghost and move to the next phase...and when you think about it all living things- be a tree ,plants or man- the only difference in our lives and death is that a tree orr most bushes live a life of green and when they've died and fallen to the ground they turn brown; whereashumans for the most part live one shade or another brown and when they die and fall to the ground they will turn to a green color..... if nobody comes along to pick them upm up and take them to the mortician " said the arborist Bert to the astonished crew boss Bob .
  " What the damp rag are you talking about and ...and ...?
  " You forgot to saycomedian in that list of things earlier" said Bert with a smile beeaking through his deeply tanned and wrinkled outdoors man's face ..." And did I just hear you say damp rag? he chuckled.
  " Yeah ,well you almost got me on that one Bert and I came really close to slipping up for the first time in 4 years."
" Four years.... I didn't know,or I would perhaps have thought twice had I known that "
   " No worries Bert if I had lost the record to that one it would have been f__ing well worth it.!"
It was Bert's time to be astonished as he whipped his head quickly to gaze over toward Bob, who continued- without a break in the conversation - "you didn't think you were the only comedian in these woods there did ya...besides it's only been 4 weeks 2 days and whatever... Hey guys we're going to go ahead and take that the other one right there down but be careful she's just as hollow is Berts wallet whenever  we go out to dinner together "
  "We ain't never been out to dinner together Bob"
  " Yeah" said Bob" and now you know why that's true" and with that he quickly moved on to join his crew  ahead leaving  Bert standing there as static is an old growth tree an, staring after Bob with astonishment and a bit of admiration as he said  "well I'll be a damp rag!
   "I heard that!
    ----***---

The real truth here is that we never really know people like we think we do, if we never take /took the chance... or we are never given the chance to...