Journalism is a tool,
Weaving facts
To fit a pattern —
True-ish tales,
Fictional realism.

Mocking, taunting,
Luring, baiting —
Just say nope.

Every gaze,a longing.
Every tear,a story.
Every sigh, a wish.
Do you remember
—truly—
What it's like
To be in love?

Long and winding?
Sure, but there's
No exits —
Not until the very end.

Tic-tac,
Tic-tac,
Tic-tac-toe,
Playing games to pass the time —
Eroding life,
Unwilling to do more.

Fear of pain has us
Picking the
Low hanging trauma.

Stand your ground —
It's just another fight
In an endless
Chain of rounds.

Don't let the ignorant weed —
They'll salt the field
And burn the harvest.

Every day
The hard way —
Ordeal or no deal.

Happiness coma,
Misery aura —
Snap out of it
And live.

Competition
Trading blows,
Stuck in the pattern —
Mutually assured destruction.

Careful —
Don't make me
Let you
Drop loot.

The ostrich's guide
To living well —
No need to fix the weather
Where there's
Air Conditioning in hell.

Wisdom, a trickle.
Instincts, a deluge —
Caught up in
Hearts and hormones,
We never stood a chance.

Heroes still die.
With opportunity
Hot on your heels,
Scuttle
For the safety
Of contentment.
Destiny lies.

Worries —
Prepaid problems
Of future me —
More than often
Go to waste.

Truth lies
In the outlines
Of absence,
Sent missing
In the depths
Of omission.

Mosaics of shattered lies,
Painstakingly glued to form
Messiah figures, large as life —
Kaleidoscopes of painted light,
Downplaying how dark
The world's become.

Memories that never were,
Gasoline on dying embers —
Bring me back into the light
And watch me burn.

Say confident,
Say unrelenting.
Say aloud, say unrestrained.
Say honest, truthful,
Yet respectful.
Above all,
Say what you mean to say.
Remember,
There's but now —
There may never come
A chance again.