Disabilitized and the tales of the destabilization of deterred deflections, otherwise called internet porn in crayon

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Blind faith and the absence of notion doesn’t infer we walk without direction, but rather we are without negative connotation by being fully open to those things out of our control. We have opted to be the solution instead of demanding our inclusion where we were not intended to become. We stand in the direct spotlight the outcast reflection that stands somewhere between the intrusion and the conclusion of a life of dreams.

We cannot hear their silenced critiques as they dance around and about a blundered bitchery, a blundered bickering bound to the backstage antics unseen. We scream to smother the silence of the surrounding violence. We are victims of ourselves. We vengefully violate our binge fed bullshit stories believing those lies to be an accurate history despite the snapshots stapled to the scrapbook pages of a childhood long since passed off a delusion swallowed by the seas deceitful rhythm. We must remember this was not our intended song that we champion a romance aborted post birth.

The days to the end have sped up their pace and improved their passing abilities on that most grandeur highway along their course to a conclusion out of our control. Our reach will never include the knowledge of the final stretch of the rat race or where we placed. Could we say we had really lived life fully in the end. Or were we just fanciness pasted to cardboard cutout puppets attached to strings unraveling. Our whole story, our essence, we found to be a bullshit existence. An excuse passed off for lack of effort attempted. We will never accept our role in the bleak direction of our purpose.

Don’t go punching babies yet grown. Soggy sock puppets will blister the dry hands of any generation as they bounce inside the dryer until the buzzer sounds and the gavel pounds and some cock or cunt counts down the depletion of our time allowed. Our existence is but an instance passed miles back a train off the tracks

About Post Author

jamesfmillerii_poet

James (Jim) Miller was born in the late 1970s in a rural, little, northern Indiana farm community. He grew up between Indiana, Florida and a short stint in the New York area. He attended Vincennes University (Indiana) where he majored in English-Creative Writing, Journalism and Music-Audio Recording. During his time as a student, he held an editor position for 4 semesters at the university newspaper, The Trailblazer. James is a lifelong writer, a lover of new experiences, people and travel. Currently, he is employed as an auto factory assembly worker and part-time cook in Indiana. A couple of earlier poems of his were published in The Tecumseh Review (Vincennes University) in 2000 and various anthologies between 1997 and 2000. He releases a regular poetry series "Ghost in the Reflection" every other week on Channillo.com and on April 20th, 2019, his debut solo collection "A Footnote for Tomorrow" released and remains available for purchase.
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