the constant echo through the exasperated mind,
this way, my way, wrong, follow,
every microscopic speck
has a thought of how to be,
surrounded by forced ideals and sustained criticisms,
oxygen is choked out by methane
from a disease of words spoken
from the wrong places,
lethal stings of "you'll have this everywhere",
swarm in droves against the dried skin,
where does the hostile cease to devour,
no longer is complete enough to cure,
complete passed 100% in its wake,
the state of living is a matter of political gain
of who can over power who with negative means,
being is no longer survival,
it is a conquering of integrity,
acceptance is a fleeting trait
left in the hands of those who are required,
all that remains are the wounds and scars
of wilted dreams, milled hopes, and cynical relations,
time can only begin to heal.
