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No Control

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i'm exhausted of your need
for scrutiny.
one white pill out of
three orange bottles,
every
seven
hours;
but you subtract a couple,
cheating your mental
system,
inducing your misconstrued
delusions of what it means
to create,
to see,
to breathe.
your land of liberty.
you're broken until you're
surrounded with smoke and
succumb to your
phallic paucity.
what was once sincerity
has been demoted
to contrivity,
and you won't find that
in a dictionary.





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