Unaverted
(“My enemies are wishing the worst for me; they make bets on what day I will die.” Psalm 41:5 [The Message])
Maybe I’ve found another who dispels my passion for paranoia,
perhaps a friend who frees me from the expectation of
rocks dropped upon my head.
My pain is still like sawteeth grabbing my perception
with odds less than 2 to 1.
perhaps a friend who frees me from the expectation of
rocks dropped upon my head.
My pain is still like sawteeth grabbing my perception
with odds less than 2 to 1.
I like to love, open the door to pain and joy, with at least
a comrade or two,
until memory serves me, sanely or patchy imagery,
and reminds me of the way my heart was left on the floor
by one or two with whom I sat during
their pain, their loss, their confusion condemned by
those who had answers for every question in creation.
a comrade or two,
until memory serves me, sanely or patchy imagery,
and reminds me of the way my heart was left on the floor
by one or two with whom I sat during
their pain, their loss, their confusion condemned by
those who had answers for every question in creation.
I am not as paranoid as 300 sleeps ago, but still
offer my hand slowly to certainty mongers
for
fear
they will discover (in their neatly-tied bow on
top of the universe) a rock with my name boldly
crayoned; the means without a motive.
offer my hand slowly to certainty mongers
for
fear
they will discover (in their neatly-tied bow on
top of the universe) a rock with my name boldly
crayoned; the means without a motive.
May I poke about, just a word or two,
until my breath comes slower and my heart
takes its time, to see if the rocks you find
are monikers left as placeholders for questions
I’m certain to ask with my
eyes unaverted?
until my breath comes slower and my heart
takes its time, to see if the rocks you find
are monikers left as placeholders for questions
I’m certain to ask with my
eyes unaverted?
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