Marionette

A to Z

Anger, angst, anxiety

all adamantly attacking

those with any inkling of creativity in their bones.

Berrating, Battering, and Bullying

until there's nothing but bruises on their souls.

Carving away at the Center of their creativity

until they're nothing more than a carcass

Dominating all thought

Destroying all hope

Eradicating any shred of self confidence

Eliminating all Empathy

Forgoing our human right to care, and

Forsaking them in a barren wasteland.

Gauntly galavanting through their lives like it belongs there

Hastily having its way with our emotions.

Horrendously heaving us left and right

And being honored by its friends as a hero.

Its indestructable itenerary itemizes the lives

Of those that live in pain and fear

Jociling the lives of those who began as

Jubilant souls. Jolly and carefree until being

Jumped by the pack of Juvenile Delinquints

Killing any drop of new hope

Kicking us while we're down and making sure we

Kiss the dirt beneath us

And these lies we tell ourselves,

that lace their way in and lavishly cover our lamenting.

Musn't we suffer?

Our misanthropy misguided

Towards those that only wish to help.

Not to our own discord albiet.

For we neglect ourselves to avoid Narcisism

And embrace narcilepsy, so our

Outlandishly outstanding behavior becomes as

Openly discussed as the morning paper.

You see, our

Precious, yet odly precarious lives

sit in our own pondering palms.

The same palms thay quiver as we question any

Quentessential help coming our way.

Sending it to the back of the Queue

Of things we have already heard.

The rarity of a true rescuer is so utterly

Repulsive that it makes this all seem recurring.

Turning us into regretful recluses

While our sentimentality slitherd away,

so sneakily you'd think it wasn't ours to own.

And the treacherous tyranical grip that

fear holds on our lives

As it tramples our tactfully placed happiness

is truly terrifying us to places

Unthinkable.

Unanimous unspoken decisions to undermine the useless unecouraging "encouragement" they throw at us.

Our vividly vicious dreams leaving us anything but vivacious, yet most certainly vicarious.

Would one of us finally win the lottery of life

And be set free?

To those who wholesomely understand and

who willingly support us no matter the damage,

You deserve a xanax,

a xerox copy for the years of your life I've wasted,

and maybe even expelling me from your life

Its your reward for all those times

you yearned to be set free from my crazy,

To be disassociated with this tangled ball of yarn that is me.

The Zealotry in which I have written this,

The Zaps and Zips back and forth from subject to subject,

All of it you have endured.

All of it you have read.

All of which I am thankful for.