the suffocation of self

as promised

at first, then after

wonder

why

realism shakes itself awake

foolish

enough

the situation

of myself

of suffocation

asphyxiation

the shackles

the bad tempering of

the brass ring

wound round

bound

wringing and writhing

a self-imposed strangulation

the effect

ribs

broken and bruised

struggle to peel the wire

away

aware

acute

removal hurts

now that we’re in it

poison potion

light reflect dark

and

dark reflect light

interwined and enraged

furious with chaos

brought and wrought

the

scuffle and shuffle

unintended offended

shame’s always the same

hide the crying pride

wake shake

not so bad

amends are made

black and whites, greyed

nothing ever happened

the war is forgotten

to see unclean

those demons of annoyance

parasitic

the alternative

a presentation

a rebirth of unrealized potential

a letting go of old habits

a telling of the incompatible current path 

with new growth and goals

it

an indication

some unknown situation

they

the blind enter into

that situation or deal

the evaluation

the facts more carefully

that person in our life

draining self-confidence and resources

there was no fight

the feminine

the graciousness

the attack to the ego

that and

there was no guilt

there was no fight

only motion toward

transforming the succubus

into

intuition

loyalty

generosity

protection

fidelity

and it was set free

foundations shifted

ruins remain

the earth belched

the pressure beneath the surface

the ice and sleet rained down covering the ground

I cry out at what was lost

alone

I try to preserve my anguish for an audience not there

posterity

relay my plight

the more i try to explain

the more enraged i become

for they don’t seem to care

they don’t feel what i feel

I can’t convey the loss

that which I had

their comfort is salt in my eyes

a discounting

my agony is not understood

my agony is a solitary trial

there is no diffusing it

the shell holds it fast

inside

it builds

wanting to erupt

as the earth did before

the suppression is poison

the expression is poison

from whence does it hale

and where does it go

where will it diffuse to

out

the pressure

it builds

the escape lies in its escape

the pressure becomes that with which identify myself

it becomes me

it defines me

my rage defines me

to let go of rage is to let go of everything that makes me

me

for I know nothing other than it

like an addict

I feed off it

a closed-system drug addict

an adrenalin junky

but the fix will never be as good as the first time

I’ll always want more

more and more

until it destroys me

until it destroys everything

I have to stop to start again

trust and faith

built on each other

rest atop reliance

my denial of the

cross

country

trip

the worry of what

she gets hurt

she gets dead

my fear

my security

my life

my loss

my choice

at the expense of her freedom

knowing she sacrificed her freedom

to be with a drunk

I killed myself

and she watched me do it

her reputation

her security

her fear

her life

which way

stop her because she stopped me

or

see if she can handle herself

freedom and fear inform

take heart

don’t lose it

H&R
outside the happy hour
parking is a bear
and when you get too close to the bear
you get hit and left
no1curr
they that idle in my way
nestled too close
they that delay my repose
my head now in state compels me not to care
or ask you to move
politely
as you idle unaware
i was proud
boasted of this teaching moment
back at the den
i thought i had taught them a lesson
the lesson
not looking out for their surroundings
the real lesson was
not looking out for me
and the drink

SCLEROTIC FOUNDATION
SCARRED AND BLISTERED
FROM THE CHASE
ATTEMPTED PRIDE

WOUND EXPOSURE
SABATOGE
RUN OFF AHEAD
OUT OF REACH

CAN’T KEEP UP
IS IT THE ENVIRONMENT THAT SLOWS ME
OR A MENTAL BLOCK THAT
STOPS ME.  I FLEW BEFORE

THE RUSH TO INDULGE
TO FEED
THERE LIES AMAZING POTENTIAL
FOR THE BASER DESIRES

THE BLOCKADES ERECT
FOR THE MORE MEANINGFUL
THE SPIRITUAL
CUNNING AND CLINGING SABOTAGE

better off without
within, the ups and downs
that are left out without
leave the with behind
be removed from the binds
of within. be without. without carries no pain. without doesn’t injure. within, there is pain. not letting go. attainment within. loss within. without, there is none. nothing. oblivion.
within within withering. without without without a thought. stay or stray. there is no way out within, so remove thyself, without. the only way to win.

The stop-clause option

cattles and rattles catatonic,

crediting the leaf flicking by the 

trio, intending to employ the

fire ants, acing a non-supportive

taboo lexicon, smitten with the

nearest slapping stilt of an

ice picking gull-scepter

roofing the foundry ale,

awakened, first, on the sand.

Nicked from the cesspool
and served up on a hotplate.

Bass,
a forgiven fillet
harvested by my little reaper
and the motioning vine. 

The accompaniment are the notes of a ferocious fight,
tamed by the art of the thread.

An elated wound reflected upon,
leads to chunder. 
Having the heart to face the sting of nasal notes.

The ice, at its optimum, flaking mist.
The intensity of an account of 
strides and inroads. A gala of laws,
guiding a queer escape.

The first step will be to break up the barrier.  The fear. 

Afterward, the light shines down, into the deep.  Into the dark.  Scattering and killing that which dwells there. Consciousness will shine down.  Antiseptic. Exposing it as the destructive power that it is.  With knowledge will come power over all. A power, an ability to control and use it for purposes other than self destruction.

Aspiration perspiration, a longed for acceptance.  The futile attempt to feel significant, the waiting to be received. The wish. The fear of rejection.

It is there, below the quiet. Lying right on the surface, of that below. Settled on top. Like scum on a pond, obscuring. Denying the light. Hiding that which is underneath.  The fear obscures, washing out the light. Effects kept hidden. The creatures that live and thrive in the dark. Swimming about. There, light destroys the environment.  There, they’ve evolved over time.  There, they’ve created their own ecosystem.  There, they flourish.  And I have to destroy them.  I, the destroyer. 

Destroy it before it destroys me? Is that the resolution?

Through destruction, creation.  A new Eden.  But to kill….will they be integrated or obliterated?  Am I the executer of the whole? Must I decide what will live and what will die?

In me. For, I am. And they, a part of me. A part of me apart from me.  To integration/obliteration is survival over the long term.

Here, I rely on the relay.  I somehow fit in a Venn Diagram, a niche, between Messiah and Jackal. Destroyer versus Order.  And the ever present feeling of being watched by those in posterity.  Not as a point of pride, but as a point of view.  Although it is pride. 

It’s time to appreciate the jackal.  What it says is funny, not horrifying.  The Jackal knows it’s all comedy.  Some of it is just bad writing.  Find humor in it all, you’ll be a llama.  Baaa

Don’t take sides. Why play a game?  good versus bad, bad versus good

Perception is the difference.

We’ll see

Maybe

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