The Gas

 

Not processable, 

   I layed it on it's back, 

     'til I could breathe. 

Not yet emerged, 

  Everything is refrained from; 

     Kept close. 

        A poker man's trot. 

In silence, 

  I would have to move; 

     To be more calculated, 

        Than he who would oppose me. 

And oppose me, 

 

And oppose me, 

He has done. 

I would reel and bend to the infathomabilities. 

  I guess you could say, 

  I don't move that way. 

It hadn't dawned on me, 

   The level of calculation, 

      birthed so much of ego, 

Because in essence, 

   I was not raised that way. 

Slowly then, 

  As it seeped through; 

     A distilled, invisible gas...

Had it not been for the gasping, 

  The gasping, 

That showed me, 

   Something I could not see?? 

And it would make a revelation 

   Out of me. 

It was then I realized I was being poisoned. 

  And since then, 

     I have been unable to unsee. 

So as you ruin good things, 

   My love...

Know, 

  How this won't end. 

      and know how it will; 

I see you for what you give to me. 

Far from Holy. 

  Malicious even. 

Unapologetic. 

Arrogant with disdain. 

Loving the sound of your own voice; 

Muffling ever the word of Her; 

  Wisdom, Sophia. 

Creating such a blur- word salads, 

  and language roaring- 

   All hollow. 

    

 and if not for the gasping, 

Then I might have never seen.