I
met several by one (mother) in this matrix of damages where serious issues are
dormant.
I have appeared unseen or
seen but unfelt while behaviors are manufactured; such duplicate responses or
meditated actions while one is familiar with personalities; so accustomed to
passivity or a bit of aggression while at wars internally; this galaxy of faces
this island of loners where too much is dysfunctional; as rarity creatures or
outstanding combatants where one is familiar with silence; our tugging our
pushing our drugs our melodies; as abused winners fevered by violence or cores conflicted
by anomalies.
I
saw something familiar I responded by undercurrents where I felt remorse as it
passed.
Those stark alleys those
trains in motion or this seven-day old kitten; by nanny to persist, by cages to
break freedom or by walls to screech mid-sentence; those vestibules laughing
this numbness permeating or this seeping into sublime existence; as losing
leftness appealing to rightness where a person is a little unfixed. Such
phoenix skies those mesmerizing disjunctions while sensing total disenchantment;
(it seems relevant this particular understanding—where people do not respond;
it becomes disdain, it becomes mixed treatment, it becomes hostility).
“Maybe it’s me, but this
is far too heavy, so it must be him.”
“I
will treat you as I wish, you will be subservient at every step, if not, I will
become aggressive.”
Those dreary realities
where most people fall into categories and often, despite, nuances, those
groups behave with sameness. So catapulted into oblivion so disturbed by
behaviors at something infesting heart-cavities; this belt losing intensity,
this mental apparatus aflame, at something seeming more appropriate—this
complete honesty inside.
I
never met this this acrobatic mind-wave where ripples are furious with colors.
“I will adore
submissiveness or I will shatter intensities as to build something we might
appreciate more; this maniac machine this report made live as to suggest a
particular classification; as one is this monster where it must be true, else,
we have miscalculated.”
By
fairer pictures but an incredible essence to need in him what he can’t fathom
by experience: those links to behaviors or something kind by gentility to
expose the best of something unachieved; this wind of passion this well-steeped
insight or an ability to touch core matters; something so unvetted while
perception is dim at such countenance warfare.
