atypical year
atypical year
Normal doesn't live here
the air it breathes demands
clear
bitter inhales and sticky details
expunge this atmosphere
here norm terminates torn and ravaged
and chokes on its monochrome song
take me, take me
don't forget they make me
industrialized born just the same
corporate made to please
please please
saturated with benevolence dipped in greed on our knees
sent to feed the system and innately
follow the wisdom of our fathers
don't bother talking what is true
we swallow only conditioned seeds
we pray & we need & we feed
on kosher and monotony
autonomy tastes of lies and all these whys
only publicize a life of too many tries
and fails and really who needs the wail
of unspoken reality
our totality is built to withstand
the fragments of the tangents the tumult the trite
existence of those insistent
on being more
than just being
those atypical deviants
creating content vulnerable raw
demanding the grime of these times and
designating different
as the real that we can feel
gambling with the stakes of pain
and any emotion
odious it leaves them all broken
and alive
we are the conventional
the average the habitual
crying take me take me
a life not lived can not break me
sputter the words
we can't respire
our breath hitches in
threatening to expire right here
and now this unbalanced atmosphere
writhes with life
not our static air space stagnant with stale everydays and always
accepted perfected mask of
we are the norm
but we can't breathe
here
and when there is here
and the air i strive survive thrive
off this oxygen of change never the same
live day to day it isn't thin
or smoked or alien
and my lungs aren't at all flailing
take a heaping deep one
and begin
to accept the gorgeous sin
of something different
not molded or folded to fit
but exploding within
despite a year lost
to fear and questions of sane
remain
don't bother to explain
just breathe know need
nothing of daily nothing of mundane
questions of self health ordained
the peculiarities the norms of society
raise a brow to
muscle a frown to
serve to remind
that this time
I can breathe no matter how thin
how thick the empty
space of air lives in
know the despair of suffocation
was just education and a few ruler slaps scars that are art and décor simply another door
to open or shut walk through or deny
no matter where my heart pumps
the humming breath
this
is where
I'm meant to be.