This is what they are

Do I even hate the voice inside of me, perhaps I do…It seems as though they are in love with a person that hates the dickens out of you. I call them Zeus. They are closer than we think. Right there in our faces. Peeping, jumping and showing off to humanly bodies and to the world…

All-day a man I call Zeus follows me, telling me I have no way to go besides you. Really, well I have decided from day two, you are not welcome on me anymore. Stop dreaming about me and stop thinking of touching my naked body.

Always a shame to expose my self knowing that this thing is not adhering to human beings’ rules. One man ticking and the other man humping imaging what to do with the sexual rules.

Enough that my uncle was accused of provocation and the victim roams around with the bundle

Zeus, it is, accusing everybody.

Someone tries to contact, my head freezes. Enough of this imaginary Zeus using that lighting finger to squeeze the zest from my skull. My pains are hard, I have to bear it.

Complains or complaints not, it confuses the thoughts.

I cannot help anybody as jealous rage lingers within. Pain blocks me as if my sinuses function at one. My relief comes from no drugs.

This is a hard one indeed, it hesitates to control me anymore. I am programmed with a silver spoon in my mouth. Happy I am to make it though.

I do not care about religiosity, they know it. Speaking to me was a sacred default. Messing up a friendship of all the loved one’s belief. The aftermath cannot be cleaned up.