by essayan hart
im satisfied that when all of this is over, i will have two strong arms, and the courage to lift my voice again. i squander a gift every time i open my mouth. there are lines to cross, and i have crossed all of them.
as we are forgetful, i will tie your mysteries to this flag. a flag of war. a flag of war on war. and you will sew your backwards alphabet into my misgivings. here we go again. a ghost and a martyr. a satyr and a movie set.
i wanted you to know better. how frequently we are disappointed. i am watching from the audience now, and i am impotent. everyday power pools in my back, and these days i can barely move at all. it will become a sickness.
i have a barrage of excuses. a litany of distractions. i should have quit so long ago. i should lie and steal to make the space for it. but i bound myself in moral law, and you carbonated the moon.
it wont be long now. its june again and my heart is broken. you will stain the paper, and i will finally explode. a surge of sweetness, of purpose. and then i will rest. so satisfied. so easy.