Thursday, June 30, 2016

this is what i can do.

i want to know the freedom of speech
of a nation who encourages it
without dictation,
as i mistrust a dictated freedom, mistrust

involved intent.
nobody seems to listen. openly, i notice
my comrades obeying

their biases, and
long engrained training, though

it is our voices we want to be listened to, our voices
we are willing to take away from ourselves

and share.
it seems a fascination shared among masses

is what i must obtain
in order to satisfy my appetite
momentarily.

this is not my stomach any longer.
this pain, i take. it must not

be my stomach. mine
must've been replaced. this kind

of hurt, an origin
of a lie,
one must hurt themselves more
in order to forget.

this initial hurt
watches me like a hawk. now

is my opportunity to get people to like me
so they will listen to me.
listen. listen to me

as a motivation to revolt against any
injustice
every
injustice:

we are being exploited. do not let this be!
do not confuse life with hell!
we do not need a leader. we need to speak about this

amongst one another! please, take action!
how does one do such a thing?
i don't know! let us all discover
together!

stop what you are doing and think.
(i am
talking to myself.
)

that is what i want- to be involved

in the process of us all
attending to needed change,

but i starve myself,
as i am unwilling to do anything less

than jump to absolutes;
extreme to extreme, over
every cloud.

this is what i do- imagine,

bringing myself somewhere understood.
i have been a terrible mother to myself.

so much rejection.
so much refusal to accept.