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Dhimss Mar 18
The matter of the fact happens to be, I've ****** my way to ascension and I know how my shackles broke.

I wasn't rambling about nonsense but the **** I was spewing wasn't venom but love. I was sharing information about the future and that brought me to find the right help because at one point I realized I was everyone's safe space but I forgot who mine were.

I've been in every possible timeline. I know Claire, I know the real bubblegum baddies. I just thought I was tripped through all of that though.

Maybe change is uncomfortable in the way people with body dysmorphia feel, changing clothes in front of a mirror with shearing blind lights.

Maybe it wasn't me that was crazy. I just asked the right questions.

I was apolitical for a reason, but then I realized politics is your fundamental human right and if I don't fight for my human rights, who will?

If I don't claw and scream my way out, who will?
I've always been nice but I've always also been just out of reach from happiness.

So maybe it wasn't me.
Maybe, maybe isn't even the word.
The words ought to be in the present tense because change can't be seen until it's all done.
psych ward retrieves
Justice,
Was my way of seeing,
The world's mandatory madness,
Until I understood,
Justice...

The sun shines,
On the unjust and the just,
Alike, because to call all this madness,
Is also to be undeserving of,
It's true wonder.

In order to understand,
One must be threaded through the eye,
Of the needle, and stitched into the multi-layered fabric,
Of this bountiful, tightly-wound world,
To see the mighty hand.

When you trust that justice,
Has your best interests at heart, you will not,
Fight the ebb and flow of decisions calling you out to experience,
The thrill and trauma, and pushing you back,
To count your many blessings.

I've often said, "Look at that! Wow!"
And not understood you consider it commonplace,
Because you gave up in seeing the finer details of something known,
Not knowing you didn't know, and not seeing,
What you have not tried to see.

My God is a thing of fire. An inferno of change.
His hand of destruction is bested by his hand of love.
His will of iron is only tempered by his relentless emotion of truth.
His laws of eternity are only understood by the wise.
His home houses only the decidedly divine.

Imperfection is just ice,
Floating on the surface,
And when it all melts,
Endless waters arise,
Washing away our hate,
Our disasters, petty cares,
But bringing them back,
Because once again,
Justice preserves the good,
And the good must rise, too.
I like this one.

It communicates my feeling of "ascension".
From where, I won't tell you.
I will tell you, "There's a reason why people believe in God. A good reason... a great reason."

— The End —