Precipitation Perpetuates.
I’m faced with a choice.

To keep sitting underneath this monolith,

Continuing life out of sight from what scares me, or

I scrape the roadside salt from my eyes
And see the forest of despair cursing my mind’s land
for every single tree,
Every spindle that seeks to undo me.

I hold a seance for these forlorn apparitions.
The RHS lobby becomes hazy in sage smoke as,
One by one in the midnight hour,
I begin reciting the names of those faceless beings.

They skitter and gurgle against the pale brick walls,
Roaring their loudest as they prepared, for death.

One by one, I will find them and realize my potential with their remains.

I will snip every string belonging to the puppet master
And float in singularity with the forces that have blessed me.

I will befriend gravity, and the talents I’ve found useless for so long
Will. Be. Validated.

The fear of that which bumps the night is cowardice,
Whose fear play is reversed to staggering nonexistence
When we remember to turn on the lights.


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