just go buy it at the store

[windmaid]

"Dripping ink,
black and bleak,
straight from my heart
to the page at my feet.
Pour over the splattered imagery,
searching for meaning:
some divinitory pattern,
any hint of reason.

Can I see the shape of longing?
or a path carved from the suffering?
Is there a map to happiness
hidden in the pain?
Is there any gain
in picking through the rubble?
Surely there must be a prize for all the trouble?

But all I can see is dark tangled lines,
skiens of broken dreams
blotting out the blank page of my life.
Capitalism keeps us fat on the lie
that trauma is the price.
As if purpose and meaning 
are things that we can buy."


Hi! im new, forgive me if mangle the rules!
i dont usually title my poems, so if you have any suggestions, please throw them at me. 
Ive never shared a poem this way before. this particular one is a raw piece. looking forward to your feedback