This Pain, Uncommon Thoughts

There were no old men who came before me,
Not a soul who wrote a goddamn-fucking thing down!!!
Nothing passed on but these well-worn genetics:
For this I am ashamed
How the fuck does this happen?
Tragedy
And I’m born into it
What the hell happened –
Exiled into this world,
In my mountain home, by the fire –
A product of a breakdown in culture,
Capitalism birthed me into poverty
Why did my family choose each other?
What the hell was so special about them;
I know nothing of my ancestors
Just a little money,
A lot of Irish, and the dischord between …
Exiled from my grandfather’s “will”
My own father hated by his mother;
Ugliness all around,
Sadness;
So my family has never really lived,
Just existed –
I’m a needle in the hay,
First one in generations who didn’t rush to breed
The very word speaks to its unconsciousness
And I’m disgusted,
Like a cow born on the factory farm,
Knowing in my marrow something is wrong
WHY THE FUCK BREED
Look; I’m not mad to be alive –
Just wouldn’t bring someone else into this until it made sense
Because I feel like the first to be conscious in generations…
And I am in pain
Wounds that were shared,
Never healed
A dis-ease
As far back as we go
And I don’t blame my exes,
I’m stuck with myself
Maybe to be loved after I am dead
But I’d rather that than to share this selfishness; this lonliness
This pain.

And I’m sorry this poem is so sad,
And I – but I’m glad to be thinking uncommon thoughts.

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