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Photo by Raph Howald on Unsplash

Religion free.

Rubble and Pieces

Destroying imprints and regaining sight.

Rip my heart apart.
Burn the cord fed me.
So, I can bleed.
Feed the leaches.

Get rid of my head disease.

Strangulation holding me so dearly.
Forming my ideas.
Tradition and religion.

Walling me in.
Walking me in.
Walling me in.
Walking me in.

That ain’t cool mama.
That ain’t cool papa.

Look what you’re doing to me.

Can you help me?
Let me have my own thoughts.

It’s too early to tell me who I am.
I’m supposed to be, just a child.
I’m only 3.

Need to form and grow.
Stop ramming limit ideas in my head.
Don’t tell me to be your coded version;
who you want seeing yourself to become in
your dream.

How could I protest?
How could I resist?
Hanging there innocent.
Waiting for direction for teaching.
For your missing touch.
Grasping for your wrist.

Walling me in.
Walking me in.
Walling me in.
Walking me in.

Machinations greasing my gears.
Submit and sacrifice my soul on the altar.
An offering of love and subservience
based on your misguided goals and
filthy fears.

But I’m free now.
Much older.
Took a crowbar to my skull.
Ripped up my programming.
Burned me away from you,
who I used to be.

Just a hint of your virus remains.
Some I love.
Some I fight every day.

My 3-year-old always inside me.

My own dreams.

My own child awake, alive, growing and free.

Now here I am.
Tearing down the wall.
Just rubble and pieces.
Stumble on my walk.
Bouncing back up and away.
No longer in more freefall.

Walling me in.
Walking me in.
Walking me in no more.
Wall is broken and gone.

Careening across the rainbow.
Colors covering me.
Looking for new adventures.

Fulfilling dreams from whence I was three.

This is an attack on thinking.

The subject contained is not intended to negate any faith, rather pointing to the limiting factors of closed thinking. Very often it takes an extremely harsh or brutal circumstance to awaken freedom in our minds and spirit.

My message is to find a way to uplift, inflame, and arouse your own freedom. No two people are the same so we must search and find the path.

I have been fortunate to have great suffering. The fires of my trauma melted me and still do. The flames set me, conditioned me, and the hot coals lingering down deep in my soul still shape me.

I am grateful.

Where do you look for change? Outward?

Blaming or looking to other’s for responsibility will never fulfill your needs.

Begin by claiming your you. The three-year-old’s soul shaped innocence residing in each person is waiting to make dreams come to life.

Let them out. Let them flourish. Let them develop with your adult wisdom and knowledge.

Be in control of your future, your happiness, your love, and all of your actions.

Peace and content days to everyone's quest to find inspiration and productivity.

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Written by

Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.

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