I trust
coarse and fine protestations that twinge my brain.
I’ve stumbled yet again in allowing for another
soul to enter my perceptions once surrendered?
It was essential or else to delve deeper into insane
possession without being possessed. I smother
the destructive speculations that left crippled
my youth throughout the dawning of today.
Yet still, caution’s yellow creeps in corners
and bakes with sunlight scars left in the wake
of catastrophes, where mine own was cast away.
Fewer then few will be there to witness as mourners
the final breaths that you and I would ever take.
What right do I have to speak of this iniquity?
What acceptable rainbow will mix with the color
of mine and secure a beautiful sunset mixed with
laughter? How will I know to cede to this equity
and create smaller rainbows? Sharing folklore
and remembering to abstain from the episodic myth
that steals a moment and makes reality false.
To quick in judgement and refusals for safety.
I need not speak a word and yet they flow
from me to you. Why dance a manipulative waltz
if only to leave me stranded? Is it not a hefty
price pay for such indulgence? I come and go
from that place often. Only again to spread over
corners to make a box surrounding the gray
matter. Guarding with discipline lessons learned
allowing them to be forgotten. The box’s cover
concedes only fields of flowers spawned in may
to be seen by passers by who have not earned
my trust.

10/18/2004

Posted on 10/18/2004
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