Selective Emotional Spirituality

The messages are never what you want to hear.
Not when her chin keeps looking at me
the wrong way when she uses those words.
Once again I've caught myself leaning
in the direction of my senses
like the arrogant bastard with a bothered agenda
doing what's best or worst in lieu of what's
(never clearly) right, expected or accepted.
The rebuttal is always exceptance

Yes, it's not "acceptance"; it's intentionally misspelled and means "the act of disallowing something".

by deselection,
implied by only the evilest of eyes laid emotionless
in a silence that can best be described
as a tree limb breaking in a calm, heavy snowfall of anger.
All I can do is breathe in the guilt
of doing my best when I don't know what else to do
everytime I catch myself falling over
every foot I've left untied for the tripping.
I can't stop myself from facing the ground,
even when I try. Even when I reverse.
There's no way out from in-between.
I'm not the victim and if that's so, what am I?
I hear the singing of selective emotional spirituality
crying from those angels all the time,
asking me to think about them
because everyone knows you put others before yourself.
It's a world of listen first and know the words
by the second verse
but every time I sing along it's out of tune
and I'm out of place
because she's only supposed to need help,
not me. And
I'm not allowed to be incorrect or
stray from directions when the instructions
are mirror images at best and
diplomatically false when the last straw
is about to fall from my fingers to her facts.
This involvement isn't fashion anymore.
The strings were pulled one final time
for show, and now, on my weakened knees
do I turn my back on all that I have
and all that I've already seen gone away
before I push myself up
and try to walk on my own
for the first time in what seems like forever,
or just a few years on her watch
of perfect timing and even better times
when she prays to what is seen in herself
as being the idol that has thrown me for all to see
into bewilderment, confusion, and nothing
but a forgottenness she can only hope for
when her spirituality will let her care.