to the thorns that ail me,
to the reassurance that fails me,
to the animosity that boils beneath the skin.
the taciturn tendencies of tolerance,
that can only weaken the vibrancy of rage.
my opinion held against their love,
and the growing irritation at the mention of affiliation,
with this distraction derived from a larger faction of the intentions of pure empathy.
And yes I agree it is one’s duty, to restore the pristine beauty of innocence.
But shall it be done at the expense, of another’s frangible mechanisms of defense? Does that make sense?
Discarding the blatant communication,
comprising of my hatred towards the very foundation on which previous feelings were formed.
Well this only supplements aggravation, already at higher levels than before.
Nothing has ever been so able to do so and be more effective than the first blow, and continue to elevate numerous times.
Now this is only my fiftieth shot, at expressing double the scot and lot.
I bring the gloom upon myself, searching for the problems I don’t want to solve.
But there they are, undiscovered, asking to be uncovered.
I didn’t apply for the position of dirty detective, but I inherited it regardless.
Persuading me to seek the words that destroy me.
Is it better to be contentedly unaware? Or just unhappily informed?
Choice B is really the only one that suits my personality.
Ignorance is not bliss, it only sends one dreadfully amiss.
But my selection sends me down the slopes of a sine curve,
repeatedly soaring and plunging across the line of indifference.
Makes it difficult to develop a perspective of the situations entirety when I can only focus on what’s in front of me,
as I approach point pi comma zero.