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Hireath

I care little what you think of me

For my sinews have been drawn by your reactions

You controlled my mind, darker than your underbelly

Forge your registration into society

As I purge and delve into the stix of my resolution

The understanding of normality is blown apart by synapses that tithe your idiocy

Humans you may be but I am divine devil and blood surged into life

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Posts

I put a post of myself on again

And then think of all the critics

Those so called friends frowning in consternation at my narcissistic tendencies 

As if am putting a mirror up to their own insecurities 

That need to nuke the system sings in my synapses

Normality makes me mad

Friendship can’t be had

I am miles away from my mission but closer than most

God is not the Father, ...

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The Eagle Woman

The Eagle Woman is made of shale 
layers of life loam, which weigh her down
She is subsumed by ten white men who have killed every ounce of her outward nature.
Men like granite who glance her way
Not seeing the feathers pearlescent, buried, fused with the debris of past bullies.
Though she rises up to the thermals with wings that only God himself can capitulate.

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