Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
Benchmarks of my progress
Hooray for me!
Seeming fine to everybody,
And still I worry,
What is sanity when it can slip
So easily?
I’m good, I’m sure,
But how can I be sure?
What if the figurative demons return?
–The ones I was positive
Were exorcized?
Fear of the return is infrequent
But vigilant I remain
Someone needs to be
Watching for the return of
A me I do not want to be
So I go through the motions
The exercise
To keep unisolated my heart and mind
Artifacts from a broken self
Appear
From time to time,
And remind
How fragile are each moment
And the mind
I can see my healing now,
In my words…
Before, I had grasped widely
for hold of sanity,
My mind spun,
Outlining all the abstracts
Seeing the metaphysics of everything
Until, like the universe
I exploded
In a big bang of psychosis
Then slowly
Though Not understanding the why
I began to pick up the pieces of self
Little by little
I write my way out
And back
And reflect on
What happened?
What had I become?
What was I becoming?
Was I flowering or
Decomposing
When I exploded?
Or both?
Or was this just
Another
One of many
Of my rebirths?
Tragedy does not bring change
When from tears
There is money to be made,
Tragedy does not bring change
When from fear
There is money to be made,
Tragedy does not bring change
When peace would kill this market,
Tragedy does not bring change
Something has to change
This daily cycle is insane
When there is only more,
And more,
And more
Of the same,
Of wars abroad
And wars at home,
Where tragedy forces change
But it’s emotional
It’s catastrophic
But for the better
To end this routine
Never comes the change,
There is too much money
To be made.
Don’t be afraid
To ask outright
what you need,
It is not a burden,
But to hold it in,
And go without,
Because you feared
Judgement,
When you were most in need.
All you can do is ask,
There is no shame
In asking
For
Help.
My world has been colored
By light,
Out of my dark
It was real
It is
And I found purpose
I had never realized
Was sought
I found the color
And I will look for it
Always
I will not be lost
Even in absence of
Visible light
For it is
Always
Whether eyes see,
Or not
She of Letters 