swans, diving

By | 1 December 2022
Here you are: solve for x where x is who you are,
what you need, what you want, what to do,
what to change, a Self, many selves, one sensitive child
trapped in a maze of proclivities. You always were good at
maths. You try to move on from equations + the mind surges
too quickly + the heart crashes too hard +
both inhabit the caging mechanism of your body +
it isn’t harmonious.

Body as an extreme / as a machine / as a ship thrown
against the rocks / Fragile vulnerable creature needing to be
cradled / Resentment / Drowning / Taxidermy / How far can you test
its limits? / You wish you could grow wings / escape yourself.

Why always write about flight?
Some might call it naïve , running away
from reality like that. Others might call it
necessary. Shouldn’t you blame fate, or
circumstance? Guilt isn’t all or nothing,
you know. (nothing is)
Anyway, the whole process
is enough to make anybody
lose track. Chase the wind.

A free fall is exhilarating — but gravity will always
win. Sorry, you say. It’s just that I wanted to be better
in every sense of the word.

You, as in me. I’m sorry
for lying. Especially that.
Maybe next time.

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