come on child, you've slept enough

and I know you're tired but I'm waking you up. there is much to be done, and we're right on this cusp of this shit getting real. I mean really, really fucked. every sheep for the shearing waiting around non-plussed, trading branding irons for brand-name cuts. we were born in labor, baptized in dust, given life anew as a living trust, with every hair numbered and cross-referenced. for each soul they claim to save, they have added interest. with a price on your head, what you think matters not; every credit card statement, every lie you've bought rates our exchanged faith for the next fiat. on the blotted paper, the blood don't clot, it just bleeds you dry and then leaves you to rot in a dead-end job till at last you drop into this old noose, with the rope drawn taut. left with your hands bound so they'll never be caught. you may sabotage our education to a calculated chaos born of confusion, a controlled market through the inflation. truly euthanasia to waste on the young. but we've caught you now, and we're cutting your funds. we outnumber you over a million to one. it's a sharp weapon, but the point's left blunt. there's no skill to the game, no challenge to the hunt, with each target deaf, blind and reticent. got your ducks in a line for the same false front. cos when free will costs even ten percent, false tongues speak lies over catholic hunts. from the cathepsin to the cathexis, I'll bear the stigmatic focus of the anti-catechist, with each catalytic pill slowly slitting my wrists. so when I raise my hand, see my bloody fist. may have killed brain cells, but I've kept my wits. and I'd rather go sooner to have known and said this. I've peaked at the end, where the answer sits. all the rest is just problems and more questions. hear the classes getting loud and the teacher getting pissed. in the end this pattern goes 6 6 6. soon my name's showing up on every government list. free speech shouldn't cost, let alone be a risk. so when I die young, it'll prove me right. cos it won't be the pills, swear it won't be the knife. no matter how hard it gets I'm in this for life. and I'm never giving up till we make things right. God gave me this voice, so I can't stay quiet. they can't kill this love, I'll come back to fight, to return each star and remove each stripe. from each prism cell, we'll refract the light, to reveal each move, catch the thieves in the night. make them share what's left and return our rights. though it may still shine from a hormone diet, this knowledgeable fruit's grown overripe, and robbed his breath, birth absorbed he. when the planets line up, every eye shall see that this invite-only disparity party has brought enough despair to the already broken-hearted, in the wake of greed, in the name of flow-charting, leaving broken homes where once were gardens. see, it's our pale horse that we're riding in on, bringing pestilence as a plague of love. with hell at our heels and heaven catching on, it's the hanged man, it's the crux fiction. it's the pentagram, it's the pentagon, it's David's star, it's the pyramid song. what was once upright now is upside down and Isaiah, it's a revelation. 2368, 2701 means a way out and if I can, you know I'm bringing everyone.


Anonymous said...

I think your artistry is astounding. I only got a peek at it on the rare occasions I decided to show up to English class AND you decided to read.
Anyway, I think you're really something. You have an amazing gift for expression, and quite interesting stuff to express.

ok, done being a creeper - Tabitha

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