generally what we want to be
is a perceived excellence by others

that is then meshed by a perceived happiness
for ourselves

the line where these two planes meet
shifts according to the nature of rebellion

and how often sparsity craves the eternal words, “i’m proud.”

when she whispered these from her deathbed, meant next to nothing–
i couldn’t say why

maybe it was too late
maybe those words have to come from a seat of strength

i was the first to always say, “who needs you?”
walk away if not good enough to please

when veracity does its best
gradations of effort do not exist

you can do better!
fact is i always wanted to tell them no

what’s done is done
and suffers only through comparison

to be like a few
or to be like many
incorporated idealisms….

“be yourself” is a crock
it means “let us identify you according to something original” — scarce decisions.

“you are this or that.”
the drama of limited reactions
most only have two: approval

and go f*ck yourself
so in this

man coagulates into scabs upon the earth
though heal nothing but their own guilt

i do not know how to make anyone proud….
not while teaching stoic repetitions to see past the delivered anxieties

‘hope’ (is) such a stranger to so many
freedom curtailed by expectations

fear…man fears his own shadow
worlds of control steeped in idiocy

decide the path to no shadows
is to have no light

you look at me with strange considerations?
eh….i never needed anyone more than i needed peace

alone is rarely peaceful, though
that’s where you all screw up

or maybe that’s where i
forget to say i’m sorry



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