Every single man
In her life has
Been more than happy
To tell her what to do.
She’s dutifully
Followed their advice,
Even when it makes
No sense to her.
She’ll fight for
Their right to
Dictate her fate
At every turn.
They conveniently
Look the other way
As she gleefully
Serves them.
Self-appointed self-help guru
Shouting platitudes at an eager crowd,
Dripping with sweat and money
From all the hard work it takes
To convince people to
Part with their money,
Making them poorer and him richer.
He peddles superficial dross
Consumed by millions
Who really aren’t interested
In looking deeper,
Just some quick answer that
Will get them through the day,
So they can pretend
They did something more
Than enable a con man.
Unscrupulous characters making
Money off fear and hatred,
Upending decency with a smirk,
Pretending to do it because
They care about something,
When they’re really only
Shameless hucksters fomenting
Chaos to line their pockets.
Keep trying,
There’s no way
This will work.
Keep going,
No tangible
Progress.
You’ll make it,
Failure a familiar
Constant.
Stick with it,
It may never come
To fruition.
Don’t give up,
You’re
Worth it.
One part doesn’t talk to the other,
A complete disconnect,
Habitual compartmentalization,
Say one thing, do another,
Pretend it isn’t happening when
Someone points out the inconsistencies.
Disintegrated,
Unwhole,
Ripped apart by someone trusted,
Believing the unbelievable,
Unhealthy contradiction
Shrugged off as normal.
I’m not sure
There was ever a time
When idyllic meadows
Felt familiar.
Subsisting in twilight,
Inches from darkness.
An indistinct form beckons,
Sometimes less aggressive,
Always debilitating.
Moving toward it,
Struggling to remember
Who I am.
As long as he can
Buy a third house,
Seventh car,
Fourth wife,
He doesn’t care
How much his business
Destroys the planet,
All that matters is
Satisfying his overwhelming
Need to silence the voices
Deep inside that remind him of
Where he came from and
What he’s become.
There was never a shortage
Of well-meaning and broken
People eager to tell here
What she should do,
Projecting their own fears
And failures on her and
Discounting her dreams.
It would take many years
Of living someone else’s
Life for her to figure out
That the only voice that
Mattered was hers and that
She could follow her own path.
Beneath counterfeit devoutness,
Noxious fervor to perpetuate a
Bad-faith scheme concocted by
Insecure men lusting for power,
Regardless of the consequences,
Human beings subjugated so
A few can protect their loot.
