Close Minded.

from the past few weeks of these endless summer days,

i think i've grasped a tiny idea of how people work.
how they act, how they think, how they move,
how they breathe.
(i'm not saying i know everyone inside and out, mind you).
i'm just saying i know a lot about a certain type.

i see the differentials.
i sometimes feel like an AI,
scanning people for their flaws,

so that i could take them out with my machinery.

but i can tell who have open doors,
and those who shut them out to the public.
like they don't want to deal with the ever changing world that we're living in.
and let me tell you,

noticing that vice does not make me feel joyous inside.

it makes me want to throw up.

i don't like the idea of pointing out the mistakes instead of pointing out the accomplishments.

i don't like when people use others just to throw them away.
and i especially despise when it repeats.
like the victim is part of the fucking rinse cycle.
constantly dirty from the control,
and pushed around and flipped upside down,
the manipulator feeling like they need a "cleanse".

i never get physically ill from just words.
but when they're used with such callous tone and cruelty,
my esophagus tugs at my abdomen,
desperately pushing nothing to the surface.
it just needs to force something out.

but instead i swallow my rage.
and leave it alone.

the sad part of this all is,

that i make myself sick too.

for leaving them close minded.

and for standing still instead of shoving the door open.
breaking it at it's hinges.

so the shut gate is broken.
and it's open for all to know and all to see.
just how i do.