The Way Out

I know your fears, I know the panic,
I know the stories you tell
I know you never feel good enough
I know your special brand of hell

I’m sorry you never learned to trust
I tried to explain and help you see…
If I claim you as one of my own,
It’s because you’re good enough for me

It’s not enough to respect me
Its not enough to idealize
You must trust in every way
Or the fear will gladly paralyze

Secret loathing of the self
Is hardly what I’d call service
At no point during your training
Were you ever instructed to be nervous

I understand you doubt yourself
You are convinced that you’ll never do
And that’s the only thing that prevents
Your happiness from being true

I’m sorry you never learned to trust
Those feelings are certainly rough
But lack of trust in me, doesn’t mean
That I’m not good enough

You would have been fine
More than fine; even happy, too
But you’d rather torture and blame yourself
Than figure out the right thing to do

Stopping short at the finish line
Is more painful than never beginning
Raking yourself over the coals of loss,
When you could so easily be winning

You might not feel worthy and so you jump
In the opposite direction of fear
Martyrdom and suffering yield nothing,
Although you force us to watch… and hear

In that deep chest of memories
You have simple tools that you can use
To ease the burden and the stress,
To help determine the next step to choose

A thousand times you can learn the game
A thousand times, start the race
Eventually you’ll have had more than enough
But those fears, you’ll still have to face

Unless of course, in the meantime
You manage to break that thing called you
We all stand back and helplessly pray;
Because there’s nothing else we can do

The power to ask, the decision to heal
It all rests solidly in your hands
Choose the work or choose easy escape
But don’t ever say that no one understands

Choose the path of sacrifice and work
Or choose the path of pleasure and strife
But there’s more love flowing over you, child
Than many know in their whole life

Ask for help and pick your team
Having chosen, never wander or doubt
An hour’s pleasure will distract you, yes
But it never points the way out

Like I said before and will again,
It’s no harder for you, than for them
You are more than capable of saving yourself
Or you may, yourself, condemn

All alone, or in twos

The ones who really love you

Walk up and down, outside the wall

Some hand in hand,

Some gather together in bands

The bleeding hearts and the artists

Make their stands

And when they’ve given you their all,

Some stagger and fall, after all it’s not easy

Banging your heart against some mad bugger’s wall

—Pink Floyd, Outside The Wall, from the album, The Wall

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Even In The Littlest Things

Even in the littlest things, you lie
Promises of civil courtesies so small,
To fulfill them, one barely need try
Even in the littlest things, you lie

So many pieces to your hate
Some are hidden, some stand tall
None create joy, only weight
So many pieces to your hate

Your darkness is beyond blinding
Wondering if there’s any light at all
Mislabeling what I was finding
Your darkness is beyond blinding

A forgery, nearly perfect, passing
Mask chipped, the disguise did fall
Recidivist, apology count surpassing
A forgery, nearly perfect, passing

But hey, at least you got to try it
Labeled thing, you renamed it all
No one ever insisted you buy it
But hey, at least you got to try it

And now, we all feel less than good
Endless, useless, talking, small
Nothing gained, nothing goes as it should,
And now, we all feel less than good

© 2019 K.T. Boswell Do not use, reprint or repost this without my written permission.

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Have Fun With That

Have fun, unknown one
With your new piece of puzzle doubt
Anything that escapes its lips,
Exactly what you’re listening for
Says exactly what you want and why,
Right when you’ve had enough to quit
You may want to run, unknown one
It’ll do what looks like a turn about
Until its bored and your way slips
Does as it damn well pleases and more
Teach it, break it, tame it, go on… try
Should be amusing to watch that shit
Author’s Note:
For the person about to make a mistake, the one who will not understand what they’re getting into until it’s far too late. I do not blame you in the slightest for not believing. You will, one day.

© 2019 Kevin Trent Boswell

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All Is Lost

All is lost

Hope abandoned in the pines

None dwell here

But angry ghosts

Cursed and crossed

Failed to read between the lines

Where written was fear,

With all its morbid hosts

Treasure spilled

And scattered upon the earth

Freely taken at whim

By anyone that might

Pleasure killed

Stripped of all its worth

Coffers open to skim

Reputation subject to slight

© 2019 Kevin Trent Boswell

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untitled

I’ve never loved one

Who would love me back

And I’ve never loved one

Who would care

When I reach out

In joy or in fright

There’s never anyone there

You may see what you want

And have what you don’t

And look, but don’t ever touch

And all is yours for the asking, my child

But love is a little too much

Copyright 2018 Magus

Kevin Trent Boswell

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untitled

In my dedication to lifting you higher,

I am willing to hold you down,

Until you drop all the words of the liar

And your senses come back around

If you think, you will easily recall…

In fairness, I told you from day one

That of you, I would have all

Or else I would settle for none

In blindness I will take your beauty

In deafness, accept your word

When you give completely, as is your duty

Only then will it be seen and heard

Seeds have been planted in soil, indeed

Despite resistance, they will take root

I will wait for the pruning of the weed

The removal of what does not suit

Once the grapes spring from the vine

In the garden you will find me

Taking the sweet fruit that is mine

As it ever was supposed to be

Copyright 2018

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

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Tiger

On the riverbanks of India

The men wade among crocodiles

For fish

In the jungles of Indonesia

The men walk among tigers

For wood

In the backs of our western minds

Among the terror files

We wish

These monsters

Would disappear

For good

Oh, to be alive and in Indonesia

By Kevin Trent Boswell (Magus)

Copyright 2018

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

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