I’m not your lamppost
Spurious at most when
We have to care so much about
What is the waste of time
But to just be happy for the cause
If we had something beautiful
To distract us couldn’t we
Care less about the world
That is impeding upon our
Inability to perfect or
Follow through with the plan
Knives in my neck
Piercing my back the physical
Figurative torture is enough
To sell it all and move to
A far away place where
We could fall in love
With life again in a different way
And forget about the things
We wished we had done better
Perhaps it’s crass or even crude
To say the words but to be a
Cunt to ourselves is the most
Outrageous ploy to fulfill
And destroy the inner sanctum
The harmonious fuzz that was
Always there to wrap ourselves
Up in, it’s just the expectation
To discourage the most vulnerable
Parts of ourselves to exist
Impossibility
Brain be quiet
Brain shut up
Look at the flowers
So unique the foliage
I wanted to protect it
Everything had changed
My youth graduated within us
Went away and
Still somehow it lives
In me like a memory
That I keep dusting off
© GÄ
Poétique 