Thursday, October 13, 2022

“I Want to be Like Magic”

 

I can’t find self—that cheerful child—the one believing at core—it’s goodness; and Light is twofold, the girth the dearth—of what talks to you, rolling into the twilight. Take it to a trance level, mentioned in those letters, while thoughts were fabricated—the life of those sprinting, by war on self, to become a good person; and missing Love, the first one, it becomes dirt and tigerstone and dragons. I can’t find self—that cheerful child—the one believing in core goodness. I walked the wire, I heard politics, I noticed partner was silent—the conversation on his line, look at how it chases us. So allotted the gamble, at an instinct, so pigeonholed; to give back silence, to become aware, to become the first — “His word is good!” Choking on telegrams, looking for one blimp, while desperate to be life. We exaggerate, been there, selling my soul; no mind support, we keep eating chicken, so fried, so alive, like a deadman.   

Sharing Pieces

    We share differences, eager for solace. Life is complex, rubies are simplistic. It took some time to relax a little. So gelid, thawing o...