Poems:
Hope is hard to come by when I open my eyes,
and anytime I try to comply, it feels like I’m living a lie.
I’ve tried, but I can’t seem to fit in the right.
I can’t comprehend how it got this way.
All I see when I step into the mainstream is menacing.
Starting each morning with something to say but no proper place.
ooo, to keep it in gives me a tummy ache.
It leaves me with such a sour taste seeing
everyone else is saying the same things.
Agreeing with nonsense…
I’m not looking for perfection, just some real sense,
anything matching the song my heart’s been singing on repeat to keep me strong.
Hesitation is building because it’s starting to seem like anytime I jump in
I find I’ve lost all sense of direction. I’m tumbling.
Stumbling, I can’t think of a damn thing through the rumbling.
So I start saying nothing, walk silently through the violent grumblings.
I try to turn to things that have steadied me before.
Only to find, the radio I used to love has turned into a torture device.
The mainstream of things is a damp rag in my face.
Slowly pouring poison over me, waterboarding
anytime I’m caught listening.
It makes me sad to see this is where we’ve driven the bus,
tasteless, saltless, and bland, what a mess!
But was it part of the game plan?
It feels like a condescending piper is playing me,
and everyone around me is just pretending.
Cause this is getting too stupid to be stupid,
it used to be funny until it started growing.
If they’re trying to drive the world crazy,
then, baby, they’re doing a bang-up job of it!
Cause I’d rather eat a pound of sand than sit through another second of this madness.
… And that’s saying something,
I got ringworm last time I dug my feet into it…
Turn it off… My insides demand
Because you can’t see straight when all you see red hues.
So I listen to the warning inside my head give up the blues.
The peace of mind pours through when I step back.
A moment of silence opens my eyes to the real things
while pointing at the disease all around me.
At that moment, I realize all I want is all I have.
Open my mind to the beauty living all around me.
It’s then I see it’s for these that I am fighting.
Close my spirit, mind, and body to this unified illness.
Fear is a sickness, and I don’t want a part in it.
I hope what this world is birthing… miscarries.
All it will ever bring is dead monstrosities.
Breathe new life into me.
I’m rejecting the old way of being
Ready for the new skins, please.