This process of censoring words,
to make you think what you heard didn’t happen.
But everything
that ever meant
anything
is lost in transit,
and all we do is sit,
and wait for the next big thing
or the next good day,
like maybe I will get out of bed,
or maybe I will go outside today.
Only to find
that the rain comes down even
harder
when you don’t hide.
When the trees don’t over grow or
loom over you,
the sun will
bleach out everything
and expose the
leach
that society has become.
While we are all unwinding
what he said
she said.
Trying to put words
still censored
in peoples mouths just to get what we want
so that maybe the ghosts of our own pasts wont
haunt us.
Now that they have grown,
become too
big
to put a
lid,
on it.
Nothing is quiet now
everything is sour.
How could this get so out of control,
how could I let it take such a toll
out of my head.
Before I go to bed
I will spit fire
with ice
and write the words down with
flame my
claim to
some since of normal
with out being to formal,
or calling it quits.
In this fit
of words where cultures collide
but people divide,
there is no where left to
run or
hide.
To stunned to close your mouth.
So instead you scream out,
not with terror
a much more fervent cause
the clash of a people
the crash of a generation
all trying to fit in this all too small
nation.