To grill discomfort so determined to ignore, while
the bear is charging; those inward appellations or rudeness internally while misnomers
seem by authority. I have lost something where one needs something insomuch as
one is suffering; such reasonable chaos, so protected by council, where one has
unreasonable pillars—but a threat to anything but gadfly and dragon while
angered no-one is seeing beauty.
It
comes by years those undivided crafts into dungeons and lakes or creeks and
meadows;
to
become according to soul while many are gray concerning personality. As held at
points then pushed by soil at scars and screams those interior chambers; the
city of doors those sky-hallways while one is angered or distraught or seeing
behavior from a light perspective; indeed, if darkness than havoc plus I see
darkness differently; a seesaw midair or total disenchantment while behaving
like humans are off the grid; our inner holograms at base instincts where to
respond means a dearer essence; those ghosts running those phantoms smiling
while one must suppress and become a humble victim; (but pains are true, and
never forget, those deeper feelings are there with reason).
—maybe
provocation or maybe a sensitive person or maybe you look like mother; those
shorn realities those intensive agonies or maybe intentionality; but they agree
and life is an oyster or personalities are like clams. this bucket of
complaints this feuding area or an arena fraught by impassivity; the nerve of them,
as to catch a grudge, when all we have done is utterly disrespect knitted triggers;
to ask one question, and become provoked, for a man did not dispute the
viciousness of the matriarch; for it matters so little, if the child is
suffering, for it is more important that the mother feels lovingly—
When
to say, “All people,” or “All of them,” we become sloppy and fallacious—but certain
traits are indicative of a given group. I might say, “Vicious,” or “Manipulative,”
but this is not indicative of the entire species; in addition, we have a
weakness, and that is, we might show mercy where defeat lies, or we might
advance for we feel superior; either/or, we diminish something, be it
viciousness or humanity. I must wonder concerning invisibility or how one
sounds raving over subtleties; plus, we never submit, unless forced or prone to
respect, especially, one originating from the dregs; quite prolific claims,
while reminiscing on King Jr., or concerned about becoming Kierkegaard; or one
more heinous, my mother, Virginia Woolf, coming to me in a perfect stranger:
that death that reality where they must force the deck. But how have I died—is
this even negotiable—in a system designating illness by numbers?
It was Morrison’s eyes or a woman we meet or mother
in Topanga Canyon. It was Bellflower nights or neighboring cities to see a
different class; or it was Woodland Hills at Fleming’s watching myself; to ask
for mutuality while seeing the worse or something yet to arrive; and it must
ache for it fires where churchyard havens disappear. To summons energy or throw
a spirit this means belief is there.
