Enough with the damn coddling

It feels like a heavy mocking in disguise

Mind, speech and world is askew … so what?

Owning my worship of sun, moon and sky

I also acquiesce to the existence of insufferable me

Manic, unedited and always coloring (I killed the lines)

Laughing at solvable riddles in stupid times

Endlessly seeking quiet at the top of my iron lungs

 This rage is manhandled by a scarred woman

I require no obviously thoughtful judgments

I’ve made thousands of mean ones on my own

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