you
will not die. you will out-survive trauma. you will rebuild.
early by recognition, father’s
mirror, mother’s inheritance. unto a screwdriver those inner weeders those
pieces bleeding an unopened brain-vat.
you
must survive, crawling into a wheelbarrow, such jasper rain: by filthy inside
while raw angst a man palming independence: no one to trust, or only by
capacity, where we never say, “Life is too dirty to trust something unclean.”
you
shall triumph. you shall blow the trumpet—where memories/infant warriors shall
come out gunning, if but for tablets, if to inscribe your history, if but a
monopoly on survival.
you
will outlive as to outwit where trees will take on images.
I fret limits so pictured by
experience where it luminates.
palms
filled with skies. beds needing whelming. windows at attention. if but paper to
demand sketches while knucklebones fall into rhythm.
I’ve devoured naked screams or otter
villages so cursed it felt good: not for pleasure, but acceptance, for I could
not shake the stigma.
I can’t shake a hunch, while if
worthy, two people can lead as examples: such ideologies such ideas while
movies capture something. they punctuate or allude to or depict an interior
understanding: by yearning, if mature, to have something ancestors explored: a
full cup, an empty plate, or a consensus stomach.
you
have survived. you have pawned your violin. you accept humanity.
you
rise at dawn. you occupy spaces. you find pleasure by dusky skies.
such
dusty mire into a lost history where others are certain to find it.
I would feel or
live or prune disappointment. I would open or close or sense it was coming:
those agitations or power given while one misses power. we clash in crevices we
bury an ant farm where tiny legs address our personas. we assess quickly. it
dies with us. while good reviews as for those feel good emotions. such
science—it seems conception, while most are perceived through feelings. a
carrot for a client. a perceived hope for a manic. or harm fretted over
something irrelevant. it’s inconsequential. it underlays insecurities. or it’s
more dangerous than its credits. soft algebra. harsh kaleidoscopes. or dear
imbalance!
you
will sing in passion. you will float without dungeons. your will spread wings.
Dear
Mirror:
it was a song, some backforest exploration, it was never balanced. I gave hope
to depletion. I provided sawdust. it was behavior where by future it must be
channeled (often firstly).
