The truth is naked
And I hurry to dress it with
The customs of culture.
I turn away
From the fracturedness
Because I'm embarrassed and ashamed
Of the immature, selfish, uncontrolled, lustful absurd tendencies.
I would do anything to avoid seeing
What I am.
What I've always been.
If I could only hold my breath
As the candle drips it's devastating
Brutal realizations
Then maybe I could see the shadow
And mend this broken vessel
With a golden seal so that
Each piece glows with light
And I could love you
Like I should have and you deserved to be
the first time.
YOU ARE READING
north on 50 - canadian interior poems
Poetryas long as we live we create and break relations with fantastic efficiency. when attachments prove inconvenient, its not always the other that agrees. its the will changing people, places and things. answers in the unanswered. a pregnant pause.
