We poisoned the well with our anxiety,
Seeping uncontrollably out of our mutual brain, 
Twisted together like a suicide pact,
The tangled guts trailing out blood from fresh roadkill, 
Our endless complaints left a stain on all of us.
The road was flooded, help couldn’t find its way.

And as we drank the water, trying to find our own way 
To quench our need for absolute control
We all got sick together
Huddling, shouting our pain, anger kept us warm.
With community, there was no need to shake from fear.

We held ourselves together this way.
Refusing to open our minds, we locked ourselves up,
And as we wrapped the chains around us, turned the key. 

We tripped and fell in the fucking river,
complaining all the way down,
we shouted to loud to hear the sirens looking for us.

This is our fault.
We could have learned more.
It’s ​No Self, No Problem, ​not ​Myself, Crying, Refusing to Admit I’m Part of the Problem. 
Don’t you dare fucking blame the ones who tried to help us.
They tried day after day, endlessly.
15 pages is not a noose around your neck at 2 AM and if it was
we have survived that,
And we will again.

Own up to your mistakes, we all have them, 
I know I do.
I’m part of the problem.
There will always be catastrophes.
And that’s okay.
And you’re okay. 
I promise.
We manage. We manage.
And even though we all drank poison water, 
And drowned in misery,
We at least died together. 
Thank god for community.

Driving in circles in a world of crisis,
what is left to do,
other than react in the completely authentic manner 
of living our lives unconditionally and relentlessly, 
with fervor, love, and positivity.
Even when a road isn’t to victory, it is still a way.
But ensure it is not Point A to Point A to Point A, etc.
We’ve heard the definition.
That is insanity, my dear,
which is not the worst thing, but still filled with unnecessary pain.

And while it is possible,
That we may be completing this reality over, and over, and over, etc. 
Point A may shift slightly.
The starting point is askew.
Not quite the circle we knew, and felt comfortable in.
The world is anew again.
Open, and free.

That fate shit?
Hah. Or something.
Fucking frightening.
Stay true my friends,
Find the void, leap,
And break the illusion. 
Together we do not triumph, 
but defeat the need to triumph.