Incapacitated in relevant times, socially awkward divulging the mind.
Backwards criteria imitating acceptable behavior, relishing in elaborate demise.
Calibrating statistics, looking for a fault in the plan, staying camouflaged,
having sneak attacks on high demand.
Soliciting our moral to please the people, a reflex function the daily ritual.
Picking our flaws, trying to erase imperfections, reversed psychology, on susceptible connections.
Building ourselves up to be one of a kind in a world that’s pushing us down the line.
Hardening a mentality to beat the system, supplementing to fill in the gaps,
staying replenished in the debauchery of tit for tat.
Carbonating our souls the best we can, injecting life through the crack of that can.
Calling on our ancestors to see how it was done, so we may follow in the footsteps of our native tongue.
We see mirages of our future so we instinctively stretch, not grasping what’s right at our fingertips.
Settling into a motionless gig, taking small moments and making them big.
For we hold a place in this world, all on our own.
Making our statement before we are gone.
about the author
Breanna McGowan resides in Bellbrook, Ohio, where she works as a full-time medical assistant and part-time home caregiver. Poetry became an outlet for her about a year ago. It has now become a passion. She performs open mics at The Canal Public House. She continually works on the craft, and loves sharing her work.