in the whole of instances

The light and dark
of it all
The warm and cold
The frailness
And the one soul
Amongst many

Why can’t you perceive sound
From what I’m not saying
Can’t observe what I
Witness
Can’t suppose about
Anything
Anything
Anything
But your yes’ and your no's
Your loves and your hates
Your all

Your feelings
Your desires
Your pensée
are more important
Than that of mine

Well fuck you
And your goddamn face
The way you gawk
The way you gape
The way you toss your hair
The way you assault and insult my sisters…
The way you bust my world
The way you mouth the water
From your glass

That glass
From which you nip

The transluscence
Of what used to be

Just sand

Until

the pressure of the world
turned it to what it is

…perfect and functional
And yet breakable
and the way it exists
everyday
since that pressure
struck

I feel
I witness
I desire
I have being and existence too
You don’t view it
But I see what’s yours in you
I discern you
You don’t even notice me
Until you desire
That misery
That self-loathing hate
you
cause in me
to evoke my horrors
and my pasts

this paper
this recycled piece of nothing
of what is not
black and white
of forgotten experience
of punctuation
and misspelled nothingness
perhaps
you see disaster
and wrong
and ghastly
and immoral
and unnatural
but I see preposterous affection
And wholesome soul
And what is
‘Known’ to some
As a life in the form
Of one moment
An instant in the whole of
instances
When one soul
Tries to connect
To another

But who?
Who in this god forsaken world?!
Who will attempt
To connect with
And relate to
And care about
any of it?