In my spare time I’m an acrobat, flipping, bending & sliding through my emotions
Usually hoping to change them, while they churn me, while I toss and turn
Another night, another dreamless wake, another stark contrast to hope
Your own mind creates a more tiring maze than anyone else made you
I’m not ashamed but I may be asleep, when you get this, when you answer
The truth may be cut up and turned into an envelope, it won’t have to be sent
I won’t need to be spent, won’t need to tell you, you’re the only one who owes me
Who owns me, who broke me, who spent me, who used me, who crushed me, who had me.
Who had me, who held me, who turned me and tried me world without end Amen
And again till death do us part, til death do us wake, till death do us… don’t.
And for all the love and the being had, I don’t think we ever got past what you wanted
Just like you skipped that in pre-school & other areas of early childhood development
I wish I had skipped a few of those gifted and special classes
and what intuition forced on me, on the chosen few, the smart ones, the old young ones
Who know better than what they feel, and who think better than some machines
And who endlessly, tirelessly, anxiously, methodically, addictively, analytically, passionately wish that they didn’t.
Those still looking, there’s hope for our lost souls, hope for the ones that took the detour right after you let your heart decide when you’ve always known your head was right.
There is a salve, a healing, mending, effervescent peace, but be forewarned,
It passes all understanding, so unlike you thought, the intellectuals don’t always finish first


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