Don't Trust Me I'm Still A Writer

write please read and enjoy

I had escaped that way of seeing

truths and mistruths, so long ago

the pests of manipulation are teeming

in every piece of dialogue, everything I know

unwritten words and actions ripple with affect

and unsettle the world, dread alone can't stop tomorrow

I've seen the strings of prediction 

influence and control, foresight is a frightening rein to forego

carried off by the affliction, let it all rot in dereliction

this snow globe is hot enough, preservation of your life is tough, the idea of hope is an alluring attraction 

that draws life over time, the fatal equation

arriving at peace is the only solution 

Corrosive as the skulls gives

to rust and self-perpetuated acid

this wasteland, where no man lives

chaotic, driftwood thoughts flow downstream amid

a riverbed of sleeping titans, who's hatred

like their tools is a weapon, the bolts hold the head together, their wrenches only tighten

they snore thunder, migraines, and whole months pass 

sulking, shoulders bent, a cloud over me, can't even be saved by the bell at mass

a preacher, a rabbi, a pastor, failure as a teacher, lower eyes and walk past her

anyone can praise the strength of resistance to anxiety and depression

but nobody views rage as a power, you own up to it and pray it away at confession

because burying your anger, letting it out in fits and hiding for years, it only opens the window a hair to leave a full-bodied impression

We've always had to push that down and make it drown in our blood and guts, no ifs, ands, or buts, it's the topic referred to as your "you know who's" and "you know whats"

chronic, always over the shoulder like a kite tied to a noose, 

balance uphill in the fight all the time, it can be let loose

I've seen people of integrity and the upmost decency get roped in by the pain

for it blinds me to the punishment I mete out and deserve, being so damn vain

I have taken freedom from soaring birds in my life, brought them down to my storm cloud level and held their faces in puddles of rain

it is hard to see anymore if I have swallowed the bottle or the bottle swallowed me, I choke on hot iron and I can't feel where the neck ends

even if it's bottled up, how do I pour it out by the cup when I know that with it I can ruin my whole life in less than fifteen seconds?