The reality is that
our causality
determines our existence.

'Our', is meant literally
in that we also partially
determine our causality
  together.

  This is co-constitutive in nature.

However, this power to create
our own destiny is always within
the limits of our own contexts:
our past choices,
our environment,
our language;

the people around us,
the history within which
our identity emerges
and the current modes open to us
to be different
(or the same).

So, we are here.
And we will be there.
And we have
somewhat of a choice.

She painted me in violent red
Dripping oil and
Strokes of toxic lead
Painted bloodied battle scenes
Of her, martyred
Me, dead
Vast imagery to tell her story,
Duplicitously
She painted her face
On every soldier, replaced,
And sold it museum to museum,
Showcased
I am the pawn,
Exhausted
A lifetime of submission
Of holding up hers,
Supported
I jumped ship and swam to shore
Faced that pain,
Drew lines in the sand,
And ended the war
She sings to the world her lies
Still, now
And paints me in violent red
From the cut she made,
From the wounds she bled.

To love and to be loved
Such a bizarre
Lives bound twisted
Leave a magnificent scar

If I held the final say
Death first of my lover
Or leave her to stay
One left to suffer

I wish her for death
For I foresee my sorrow
Should she see final breath
My grief she need not borrow

i cannot blame you Father
if i am not one of those you gather,
if i am not a chosen believer.
given the choice,
i wouldn’t choose me either

I find it so easy
to think poetically
of the world
as one giant beach

On it in which
all of us stand
and wait for
the clouds of radiation
to roll in

To resign ourselves
to the disaster
on the horizon
because that's the direction
inertia carries us

It is easier—
at least for some—
to imagine learning to die
than learning to fight

How many times can one restart
Before they lose their beating heart?
Is there a line where second chances
Turn to ghosts in fractured glances?

Each version built, then swept away,
I ask, how much of me will stay?

My future spreads, a boundless sea,
Each wave a path calling to me
I crave them all, each shining shore

And my future stretches, vast and wide,
A thousand doors on every side
And oh, I ache to walk through them all
Yet once I choose one to open, the rest refuse my call

Maybe it was dumb...
     but I had a lot of fun


  getting nothing done

                                                           ­     :)

Tell me… Are we truly free?
Is the shirt I am wearing
Something I like
Or did everyone
Influence me?

Does my vocabulary
belong to me?
Or am I trying to
speak the language
of the majority?

Did I choose what to study
or did my study choose me
based on my own ,
limited framed ability?

Does my life as an employee,
Involve my own self
and absolute freedom
or is it all based on money?

Are thoughts, rent-free
keeping me awake
even mine? Or a
creation of society?

Can I live in my own movie?
If dancing in the street
will let people judge me
Tell me… Are we truly free?

When they talk
It’s an inside joke
“You wouldn’t understand”
They say while they giggle together
When you ask to hang out
There’s an excuse
“Sorry I’m busy”
They say while you watch them together
When they talk about a group chat
But you aren’t on it
“We must have forgotten”
They say while they keep texting each other
When they bring up memories
But you weren’t a part of them
“You must have been sick”
They say while they plan to hang out again without you
When they forget your birthday
But they’ve planned presents for each other’s
“I’ll bring your present tomorrow”
They say while they haven’t thought once about it
You are forgotten
You are left out
You are always the second choice-
death by a thousand dismissals