late night entry, recycled pieces from a recent contribution to the discussion list.
some people will get so caught up in the way something
sounds, that they will never spit out what they’re
trying to say. for fear that words will fail them.
for fear they will fail their words.
for fear.
instead, they think in abstractions and infections.
they think about archetypes and ideals. they excel in
digression and sincere noise.
they distract themselves with drones and tones,
hypnotized by how light can be fractured
avid eagerness to splinter it completely
finding safety in its utter destruction
some people get so caught up in their ways,
that they will never.
they create all kinds of reasons to explain, justify,
excuse.
lacey doilies upon which porcelan cups rest, they
name them delicate, tender, fragile… and insist you
not notice the slivers of the many sets
that have been dashed upon the floor
they weep quiet tears and name themselves naive, defenseless
while their stiletto words, actions, snick like razors
is it training or simply obliviousness
that allows them to look shocked and surprised
by their handiwork?
to meet such a one is like falling into the rabbit hole,
where ‘yes’ means ‘no’ and ‘up’ means ‘down’ and
your thoughts are challenged with such aggressive zeal
you wind up wondering if maybe it’s you after all
but then, you realize…
it isn’t you they’re really interested in
it’s the light you carry
it must be fractured, splintered, utterly destroyed
for within wonderland, only the cheshire cat
is allowed to smile.