The angels with hands. letting the knife cut away from the true heart, the one that remains after the chaos of storms. the heart racing the mind racing the breath breathing, the unkowing, the knowing the wisdom of fathers and grandfathers who look down from my walls and reach their gentle hands to caress the darkened curls. Wet from the rain, from running in the night. Unbind my heart.
there quickness of my perceptions. Aha, I see you now. You have always been here. You have always surrounded me. You have always waited for my return. You have always known my true nature. You have always known that i am still here with you, no matter what I do. I am always with you and you have embraced my true nature.
Mother, don’t wait up for me. Let me run like the wild dogs through the city streets. Let me hunt out the companions of glee, away from you. Away from the bound feet of your imperial authority. You unbound my feet. Then you try to hobble me. Why do I live in your contradiction. I am just a child. I am not you. I cannot understand you. I cannot help you in your own turmoil. Save yourself.
I am gone from here. I am long gone.
Ahhh, there it is. I put it out there for you to see. No I have not edited these thoughts. I have not waited interminably for one right sentence to coin. Yes, this could be a phase. This could simply be me saying, I’ve already done way too much thinking and editing and thinking about what it is grandfather wants to publish, and mother wants to read. so just bear with me til I figure this out. I’m not asking for anything, suit yourself. If you don’t like it don’t read it.
There are no dues or fees. Yes, this may be random, possibly derivative, but how do I get out of this burial ground without dirt under my fingernails. False starts, blood and guts and your endless rejections. And your hallowed words. that make no sense at all, those very words that have helped to destroy all I know as sacred and necessary for survival. For my survival. For the survival of all that is true, and not false.
That is all we seek, the truth, not your acceptance. Childish, and doglike. Puppy love.