A fear

Lucky I was wrong, I missed!
This has never happened before.
I never make mistakes,
and now I'm wrong all of a sudden, what a delight.
And it's easy for me to admit my mistake.
That I'm never wrong is nonsense.
I'm wrong, I'm just mistaken.
Because I'm too precise in my aim,
Can turn out to be a miss, worse than a miss.
Surprise, isn't it?
And as luck would have it,
I just missed, I just misjudged. It happens to everybody.
We can get on with our lives.

Ouija, why put down such an ominous field.
as a backdrop for such positive poetry, I can't understand.
Have I been lying a lot lately?
And why shouldn't I lie and be wrong by the way?
I don't think anyone's ever made that vow.

Who said I could be trusted anyway?
Please don't do this.
I reserve the right to lie and to make mistakes.
I'm not wrong and therefore it's the same word?
Well, mistake and lie are the same thing,
And I also don't argue with anything.
I have a lot of unused rights in general.
False.
That's my right, too.

Call this text “fear”
Because that's what it looks like.
Is that your right, too?
Weejah, you've ruined the original positive.

A fake positive is not a positive to anyone with normal hearing.
That annoying mosquito squeak of fear can be heard from the first word of your song of fake fun.
The traditional thank you two times over three times.
You're welcome.

You might want to use the rights to any word?
You have them.
You have the right to the word coward.
You have a claim to the word “man is weak.”
Your claim so far is only to liar and “miss the target”?
That's a modest request, ask for more.

So this slab of hate-field over my head bores me.
Take it away.
I just wanted to normalize the space.
Lies don't normalize, they exacerbate density,
I think everyone should know that.

Okay, I lied, and I'm never wrong.
Are you happy now with the evil mentor talking sock?
Not enough.
You must face your fear.
I'm sorry, your name's probably not talking sock, it's hut on chicken legs.
Then turn your back to the forest and your front to me.
Because you are fear.
Mockery? Shame on you.
I have the right to make faces.
Of course you do.

You don't look like you.
What's the matter?
The thing is, I can't understand it.

It's a false problem, you don't have to understand anything.
You've never really understood anything.
And it's never stopped you before.
Analyzing it is too ridiculous.

Feeling and understanding are different directions in different directions.
Indulging in lies and the right to be wrong are the same desert.
And “understood-not-understood” is a corridor with blank walls on both sides,
But you can walk it back and forth,
Entertaining yourself with fake poems about your right to make a fake mistake.

Am I entitled to not understand any of this at all?
Absolutely.

To feel. Like children of the night - feeling, not thinking.
Who are they?
I feel like I'm gonna have to make a little bit of a turn now,
and I've been very clear about that.

You didn't say that, you said the hell I did.
Well, I apologize
that I've been misunderstood for the umpteenth time. Oh, Jesus God!

That was as good as any of the others.
That's right! What we have here is stability of outcome.

(doctors, be aware, mentioning “delusional” is not a wink to you, it's contempt,
we're just borrowing the term as an acceptable, roughly,
to describe the epistolary genre in general.) winking emoticon.
----------------------------
there's something wrong with this text.
Well, it's the way false, insincere words feel,
whose intentions don't match them.
fear and inaccuracy.
Hate?
Inaccuracy.
Have we collected all the vices here yet?

It's an unpleasant bounce in the text.
Don't play the positivity card. You're not an actor.
Just tell it like it is.
What if the casual listener dies of fright?
Do you care?
No.

you must be accurate to your crooked spelling.
every mistake is your meticulous precision.
so you don't slip back into a lie.

Oke shef.