Here’s the thing about
saving my life; I’ve wandered
about for far too long

to just hand over the
chain to this anchor to
give you the key to my

bike lock to introduce you
to my journals. I’m an
uncracked egg, eh, and I

like it that way, I’m
easier to transport
that way. You look at me

and see my destiny but
when I look at you seeing my
destiny I wonder how

you can see at all with
your fingers pressing against
your eye sockets like that;

must be a whole lotta
stars I can understand
all the confusion. I’m

confused, too, and I like it that way
I’m easier to transport
that way. I once sat on a rusty

park bench in the pouring
rain for 34 years just to
watch an elm tree grow and

I learned more about
autonomy in an arboreal
adolescence than in the

time it’s taken you to
sing me to sleep. Here’s the thing
about saving my life:

you cannot hope to know
me if you do not try to
understand me and you cannot

do that either if you keep
locking me in your cellar.
My head is too high to be

put behind bars don’t take it
personally it just doesn’t work
believe me I’ve tried. The truth

of it all is I’d rather keep
dreaming then work on
communicating even if it

means I drown.

 

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