Rules of Engagement

As I see it is only me. I try to relate and see the sum of all parts, but I am meek in the service of the arts. I keep my distance for a myriad of reasons. I just know how bolstering, blustering clouds can crash on my face in an istant, shattering the bone. Miracles of past adventures still leaves me leary and weary of dates and friendships. I try to find me, but I must stay down so that at least some will stay up. Nightly I must answer a call that is just best not explained. I just see the unreality of it all and I survive the constant "casting call." Hate is there, but I have to surrender to the environment that is diseased. One day I will shout out my name for eternity. I am not Jenn, Jenny, or Jennifer. I am HOPE! Fuck everybody in the bar, in the museum, in the class, or in my "residence." When I must constantly describe barely alive with the light energy of constant positivity and gratitude to keep a roof over my head or not end up in a bed for eternity life is HELL. Where is the team? I think that I passed the ball and it just keeps going out of bounds. It is time to just shoot the goalie in the head with passionate poetry and move on to another realm of understanding. I guess that is my stress. I would say that war is diress.