Mother

Back when my mother fled,

I casted dreams about the greedy in black night,

I forgot about acceptance,

And embrace of youthful rites-

Of passage,

Who’s pages may shred,

Of red and white,

From blades I’ve bled,

In deep depths of night…in bed.

I formed bonds with things,

Folk held together by string,

Wrung and wring,

They hang and swing,

From ceilings that have left me,

Thrown into skies of infinity…

And beyond what I choose to understand.

Affections subside from shambling on uncharted nerves,

Stabbing at my adulterated nervous system,

Mother actualized the fear of abandonment that amplifies in my childish ears while alone,

Screams from trite organs clinging to externals,

Give my hands reasons to act infernal toward people generally believed good.

When the screams stop, undoing my trouble,

I will dance toward the running emotion,

And embrace it tightly with sore feet and stinging arms,

To return it home…again.

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A.D.D

I am with the aging young,

Energy aplenty atop dreams high sprung,

I ask myself for focus,

She does not answer,

Let deliberation engulf me, grab me by my nerves and drown me in inattention.

Mother see that I cannot notice!,

Give me mental clarity, permit me peace,

Just once without the pill,

Do not drive me to keep still,

Do not deem me sickened and find me ill,

Just once…

Without this pill,

These pills,

A shiver, a chill,

A tickling tick shrill.

It is the presence of adoration, affection,

That drives you,

Protection over the lives who-

You parent.

The grades down, I’m doped up,

Medication choked up,

I can’t speak up…I never woke up,

A hurricane behind bone that have all broken up…

Interaction

The music offers me her hand and politely excuses me from discomfort,
Although without permission,
Often grossly murdering my nervousness,
And quickly instilled me with confidence.

I am unsure…
I am unsure where she takes me,
I feel that it is East…on the shores of North Carolina,
Where the wind is incredibly insensitive to my frustration with the cold,
There,
Unmasked,
Unbridled,
I annex solace and cast away in the freezing waters,
Now I am ready to interact with people.

A Word

I never had the energy to look-

At what her nature took-

Away from me,

The missing parts that people hatefully-

Pointed out,

An obvious deformity…an emotional shout,

In a lightless scene…

Demonstrated in violent dreams.

A woman spoke to me,

Told me something that almost broke me,

In half, and supposedly-

It was intended to make me laugh,

But it didn’t…

She told me that my smile is composed of gathered pieces,

Of scattered peaces,

About the insides of myself,

I needed to get rid of the extra books on shelf,

Because they were holding me back,

The future is bright, the past is black,

The future is mutable, the past is fact,

I told these words to the chest and weeped,

Finally found the base again under my feet,

I made myself a promise…that I promised to keep,

That with this anger, this heat,

I will singe the obstacles that exist to keep me weak…

I never had the energy to look…

Ms. Mystery

Give me nothing,
My desire for information exceeds the weight of your realities to offer,
Under that scarlet hair, please hide…away,
I am unsure of my open hands,
They may crush and collapse the parts of you you give me,
I am statically linked the paramount of my sadism, yet I cannot bare to see you hurt.

I will demonstrate inaction,
Grant not a working notion fruition through working hands,
I will stand, and wait,
Until you house your confidence in my security, and permit my heart to empathize,
Oh Ms. Mystery, I ask for nothing but a chance to merge with your sorrows,
And cut through that thick cloud of shear discomfort you are choking in,
Know!, I hear you gasping for air,
Under that scarlet hair.

Color

I guess I’m prodigious in relation to  emotionless miscreants,
I am riveted with genuine emotion among zombies to futile causes,
Raging proponents of staying wholly apathetic because feeling hurts,
They do what they feel works,
Generations, infinite Earths,
To be drained gray and bombed to dirt,
And dust,
There are them and us.

I am a genius because I protest the embrace of abnormality,
Outside present barriers of placid reality,
To sling color into that morose gray,
And paint the streets with ensuring future and new vitality…
It’d be hard to say-
That those impertinent will wither soon.