Forgive My Diatribes

The routines turn to anxieties,

Your breathing is a mountain,

Your sleep is the peak,

The only time you see reality,

Is when you dream.

 

I guess that is the only time I feel grounded,

Like I am in control,

And I’m not floating into some abyss,

Filled with stereotypes of neo-nationals,

I guess that’s the only time I feel at ease,

Like I’m not floating away with the wind,

And I’m not just some miniature freckle on the stretch marked beauty of the earth,

Like I’m not just a point on the NASDAQ,

Like I’m not two swallows away from the swallows,

From my last fatal heart-attack.

 

In my dreams,

I dream of reality,

In my dreams,

I dream of normalcy,

In my dreams,

I dream of the way out of the maze we call this planet,

The circular histories you can’t find your way out of,

So when you are tied to the trees of this history,

You just become….

Become the roots,

Become the seeds,

Become your own scars,

Your fallen leaves,

And even though you know its wrong,

You let history repeat,

The world is exploding,

You’ll let it explode if exploding is more cheap,

It’s a maze,

It’s a prison without bail,

The only way to get out is to go to hell,

Or wait for the world to go to hell,

In my dreams,

Is the only time I see what should be reality.

 

I woke up one night in a sweat,

Hoarse screams from violent dreams,

Of a moment that broke my reality,

And exposed me to their harsh reality,

The world is cruel, unpredictable, figure 8,

It spends you in circles,

But you are so dizzy that you hallucinate,

And you dream of the dreams of what you will eventual become,

How you’ll defy the system,

How you’ll rise above,

But every night I wake up in the same sweat,

Screams that break glass,

Stepping on glass with everyday I have left.

 

I try to run out,

But the grass extends to the sky,

I try to run out,

But the air I breathe is suddenly cyanide,

I try to run out,

But they tie my feet to the corn,

And pour water on my head,

Until my truth is,

Just echoing what they just said.

 

And in my dreams sometimes I find my way out,

But there’s still billboards in the background,

Still skyscrapers arising from the cracks in the sidewalk and in the ground,

There’s cheap sex and there’s cheap food and the sun is on sale for cheap,

There’s even moments where I find the sun in old stereotypes,

In my hegemonic surroundings,

Maybe my dream is what I’m living in,

Maybe I just feel guilty that its my dream,

Maybe this guilt is the cause of my suffering.

 

So I escaped but I woke up in the same sweat,

Dreaming of a dream that’s worth dreaming of,

I wonder if what people believe,

Is really their truth or what they think their truth should be,

I haven’t slept in weeks,

And my eyes are rolling back into my head,

I see my inner thoughts and my inner child,

He’s about five-years-old and he’s standing outside of this maze,

Too young to know of it yet too old not to behave,

I’m trying to run away but they bring me inside,

They say in this slavery is the only way to be free,

This slavery is the only way to survive.

 

I think of my future daughters,

The mazes they will be subjugated to,

From age old stereotypes,

Cooking, makeup, slut-shaming,

You’re a fucking prude,

And all I want is for them to run in the flowers outside the maze,

Laughing so loud that it creeps until my dreams,

And I’m given a dream of what humanity was….

Before the circle swallowed us all,

We live in a black hole,

But we are born in a garden,

A garden high above it,

Laughing at the illogical shame of it all.

 

But I know one day I might decide to pull Hailey and Serena into the black hole,

I’ll be too exhausted to fight,

They may have bought my sold,

Turned it into a shopping mall,

Or something they concocted as a distraction,

Something that pushes me into the black hole,

In the sea drowning with the fishes,

Sometimes dying and drowning with the crowd,

Is less exhausting then standing alone and suffering……

 

I think maybe I’m being a little too hard on myself,

I’m just scared to death that one day I’ll day to myself,

And I’ll turn a blind eye to whatever they say is invisible,

That what I let them do to my friends and family will be despicable,

But it will cost way less than fighting back,

Tying me to the cornstalks,

I still try to break free,

But then I realize being tied up,

Is easier than suffering in your dreams.

 

Please forgive me…..

 

Please forgive my diatribes,

What is skin without the possibility of skinning alive,

What is a garden without the possibility of a black hole,

What is evil without the possibility of having a soul,

Please forgive my diatribes,

Yes, I know suffering is such a key to being alive,

Please forgive my diatribes,

I’ll put all my thoughts inside a box next time,

Please forgive all my diatribes,

Hope the box isn’t sent somewhere,

Hope I don’t have to live scared….

 

Please forgive my diatribes,

Sincerely…..

Someone so happy to be alive,

 

 

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