(Sip, sip)
     It
Trickles
       Down
     My
  Throat
The warmth
  Hitting
      My
   Chest
      Like
       A
     Perfect
       CRASH.
      Lungs... EXPAND........
      As
       I
      breathe
     You
        In.
      The
      Empty glass
       F
       A
       L
        L
        S
   I pick it up,
                        and drink you again.

And what is knowledge,
Other than glorified, or ignored, interpretation?
The meaning of a thing,
Of your idea,
Or mine.
Necessary because you can not show me what you mean,
At least not literally, for I am not rooted in your reality,  
So I may take it a different way.
And so there is constant legitimization to those who
Say “I meant it like this.”
And then so it is,
A found, perfect defense,
Of which we cannot dispute.
We do this while also applauding those
Who respond with fiery tenacity,
“Well, I took it this way.”
Well, then checkmate.
Scream atop the rooftops your messy, contested discourse,
And mix it in alongside the shadow
Of culture and history,
Allowing for the perfect recipe,
For there to never be
A clear winner,
But be prepared to accept that I know not what you mean.

A girl's values are now FINALLY free! Because nothing wasn't meant to be ever forgotten from her literal inside outness. Nor was it meant to fixate a very awful opportunity for her to mend NOTHING at all of the sort.
Except now that all values are truly free.... How does she put up with the newly evolved form of freedom, (that too is... Nothing more then the impression of something that isn't entirely evolved, when it's more of the freedom of something that never "up to this very point in time" has had the very taste for freedom...ever since this very "corruption" had first started back in a (supposed past) that can't EVER AGAIN become measured properly...? When all isn't meant to be remembered, ever again. When it's also never made to be forgotten (for the most part), either.
So, reasoning out the many variables that compute too much seeming nonsense, as if it's meant to correct it's very wrong doings without thinking about whether or not, it's made to simply be this way...from now on...?
A question repeated by another question, doesn't give enough value to an even more "correct" answer... When nothing is made to bear for the correct assumption, when wanting too correctly "imply" something of an entirely different meaning, altogether.
So, in order to mask this (good enough impression) where nothing would ever again, become "faulted" right off the bat! So you couldn't ever become the more obvious to such a situation that isn't ever to be up too date, ever again.
This poem is too a girl who isn't just (on the dime) to correct their most importance across something that's most deserving of a young and cherishable young girl's lifetime values. (Because let's face it...) A sense in someone's very self isn't truly found out or correctly assorted into context for their very heartbeat to pulse even more correctly too life, if it's not been made to be assorted (very well) within it's very pattern recognition to debate those very pulses into even more correct verses. That would then normally lead into a proud melody to simply interpret as mere language to itself bouncing off of different representation of things that ONLY matter from deep within itself (first and foremost).
Because one's very values are then sometimes mistakenly disguised by the heart that you have yet too interpret (towards the very inputs that have yet to correct it's own values for the heart to value, altogether)!
And that is a brain that's too full of itself... That it can't even see the more correct reason, as too simply "why that is"...?
PS... The brain is the ultimate finisher of failures across an even more disturbing platform that can't even redeem itself (properly) when it's CONSTANTLY yanking it's own chain essentially too bear...alone with!

Those who are blind wish only to see.
Those who see, dont know how to see.

The kitchen is a war zone
A bomb explosion
Wading through the mess of dishes
like sailing across the polluted ocean
They’re stacked practically to the roof
I can no longer ignore the ugly truth
The proof of all the days I’ve already been through
This bowl is from two weeks ago
Good god where did the time go?
I let this mess get piled up
24 hours in a day is not enough
There’s so much to do I don’t know where to start
Maybe it’s best if I break into parts
Turn on the water
Give it time to get properly hot
The sink begins to fill
The water is overflowing
Dishes spill
What am I gonna do?
Now its not one mess but two
The floor is flooded
The sink isn’t draining
I’m slipping and falling
Frantically trying to stop it
But I don’t know the first thing
about fixing a broken faucet