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The Dysfunction Junction

7/23/2020

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Picture
 the dysfunction junction
a place where the mind
makes a lot of assumptions

things you see, sense,
no acknowledgment at all
like a “sweet sixteen"
waiting anxiously by the phone
hoping the classmate bad boy
down the block, will call

because he hinted, that he might
as he fondled a chest, not quite fully there,
throwing her, his best rebel stare
she didn't seem to mind, or care

but she did, she just didn't let on
the things teenagers do
while dreams and days, still lived long,
like the swoon, in a "be mine", love song

there are many bodies,
milling about
the dysfunction junction
is what the truth is all about

a "welcome friends",
sign hangs in the air, alongside
"learn to live numb, learn not to care"

the last thing you want here
is your eyes open, aware
that something, is terribly "off"
at this station
normalized, the "not quite right",
also known as,
people to people relations

notice i did not say "human"
that's rarer than, sandpaper on skin
is known to be subtle and soothing

human means one is able to relate
to another, with emotions
in a "beyond themselves" state
things like empathy,
consideration, compassion
things that make the ship in relations
real, lasting

be them friends, romantic
or respectful stranger
the dysfunction junction
is the destination, stop, danger

warning signs flash
as all are there, wearing see through masks
masks that reveal, all are out for "the kill"
whether we realize it or not
we are all sold and bought

to the "after" in the "thought",
the dysfunction junction
a place we try to pretend, we forgot
as we scratch and claw
for our place, alone, we are tethered
the dysfunction junction
is the "leave now", before the "or"
is followed by, "you will never"

hard to do, since we've all got it
like a lesson in school
nobody taught you, but taught it
somehow, it's just part of our make up
like the "built in" in "brick wall",
selfish designs,
lead to the predestined break up

of so many couples
really not, really, joined deep at all
it's he amongst her
and her clawing him
and sally doing susie
and johnny fucking jim

there is no "love" to "make"
within the dysfunction junction partake
its a swarm of bodies
playing their shit out, on each other
pretending it's "a connection", but not
that requires real work, real thought

the lengths we go
to believe and deceive
ourselves, our "friends"
our "loves", families...

and that's the most,
feared word, of all
family, "god help us"
like "the cult", kool-aid called

drunk down and swallowed
picket fence, "babies, babies"
and a dog, you forgot to check,
that frothing at the mouth,
"do you think that might be rabies?"

kids pumped out,
like mom's taking a shit
"it's what everyone does",
so we must, of course,
suck on the same tit

the one that's been, milked dry
and turned sour
the dysfunction junction
more packed by the hour

it's grueling work,
to walk life alone
no one, "on the daily"
to blame, betray, bitch and moan

but I've found,
while "just slightly", dysfunctional myself,
the deepest of souls,
on the "alone" path, as well

some are married,
some are not
most have families,
some kids, some not

but one thing separates
these souls, from the others
there is "something" inside
they aren't just people,
they are humans and lovers

of having a mind, a heart, soul, of their own
and while they may be with,
or surrounded by others
innately they are travelers, sensitive, alone

slightly dysfunctional too,
as no one alive here, is truly immune
but when arriving at the junction
they said, "fuck this, I'm through"..

acting this, and playing that
I'll do my own thing,
take my chances, "what's that?"

that's called an individual
with an electricity, presence of their own
they speak their own language,
see things for themselves,
truths, insights, unknown

by anyone else
until the gift, called,
found here, rare, them
and this then, the meaning
real togetherness, when...

you can recognize
a fellow singular being
and that's when love strikes you
as if the lights, suddenly turned on,
you are seeing...

yourself, in a mirror
that isn't just a one way, but two,
fucking miracle..

far away
from the dysfunction junction
things can actually be quite pure
sweet, truly endearing

and

beautiful.

it's not about using
and taking, for the take
it's not about abusing
harming, the delicate skin
covering the heart, psyche,
what's at stake

is the reality, truth
we all secretly want love, and to be known
but not by those trained, stationed,
the dysfunction junction,
they've been proven, to be shown

to be shit stirrers and users
and manipulators, many
at the dysfunction junction
the herd is flocking, not thinning..

so do what you can,
run, avoid that place
or else you will vanish,
your sense of self obliterated,
without a trace

it doesn't vibe "happy!",
and it's does jive, "good"
but the dysfunction junction
shows you the way..

that "shouldn't be",
becomes "yes it should"..
by all those buying and selling
it's lie

turn away, do the best you can
it's called, in the end,

the courage to try,
and not blame yourself,

lost forever...

in why.

(some of us here, this place,
never really our home,
but we got here somehow,
and with each other, we found,
not quite, exactly..completely...alone)



bowen hart roselli
23 july 2020
ringwald love
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    the realm of the poetic.

    prisoner of the psyche and the inescapable. heart.

    all poems copyright of this author. - ringwald love.

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