I.D. Please... :-/

Its something how a person can manually move you from one extreme to the next....while you being like a puppet is going along with the ride (because of trust of course). What happens when you have run out of patience and decency seems so far ahead?... Why is it that time after time you allow the same demons to attack. Within the same token, allow access to those points of weakness...there is no one to blame but yourself. You have somehow come up with a radar for trouble and expect others to care. Why is it that every day you allow your care for others to turn into the pity one would have for you only because of another bad decision? Why would a company need guests to show i.d. if everyone is allowed?... Your life is sacred, not just anyone should be welcomed in because at the end of the day, they all have to leave.

Moving Hands~

The limbs of depression massage depths of my subconsciousness. So far that realization of the very effect has been overlooked by the implanted happiness. Not just any happiness, but the kind that was fertilized with the water of a well that never runs dry. The depressive weeds grow fingernails that scratch the surface of my very being that perhaps the blood from my pierced flesh would paint the roses red. Not as nearly as red as my cheeks were on that day i heard those words. Harmful words. Deadly words. With each hurtful fungus growth, today, the gasoline of my power and the match of my intelligence has set aflame every negative growth. Letting no man put asunder the work that has been established. Addressing my falls wound from a limb I grow weary and bland. As though my years of living had tripled. Very much so does the movement of hands effect me..."Tick Tock" the hands say. "Ouch" is my response with every passing second I allow they allow me to predict my steps.