Collide.

Collide.
Blinking lights, clanking sounds,
Sirens. Someone's hurt again.
Flashing images in my head.
Things heard that were said.
You made me feel safe.
You made me feel real.
When you held me in my bed.

Touch.
I'm confounded by the numbers.
The stupid coagulations we invent
To turn our cubicles
Into cell blocks.
We invent bars; methods of separation,
To dwell within the safety of alienation.
I look at you.
You look at me.
You see what you want to see.
But will you ever see all of Me?

Purgation:
That's not a word.
But it feels like Purgatory.
I'm good enough.
I'm true enough.
I'm skilled enough.
I'm Just-Like-You Enough.
I Am Here enough.

Progress.
Differences used to be met with blade, fire, and war cry.
So let's instead just swing the other way.
Create a colony of paranoid misers
And with your bag of shit, sir, would you like also some fries?

What to do...
What to do...
What to doo...

Eject.
Reject.
Object.
Project.

I project a better tomorrow.
Starting today.
My Way.
Ok?
Namaste.