Bleeding out our Reflections

Today, I am more delicate than I thought…I need more self-awareness and power to keep afloat. I seek respite in relatively unsung sages who can’t be pinned. I hastily seek my self-fulfilling prophecy, and in the midst, find small glimpses of sincerity (that sweet essence of humility). And though I wish for love from on high from within myself, instead find the eyes of those great sages, encouraging yet menacing. Can I live up to such a standard? I dare not. And would rather, in hubris, set up my own standard, an ocean apart.

For, I sift through old paperwork in hopes of finding beyond myself. And do I ask for more than I can handle? Or merely no regrets as the bar gets raised higher?

I am a ball of myself rolling and gaining on myself. Unto myself. I undo myself.

Whether or not I untie myself, I find, on settled seat, a smirk of my own, on my own, is enough to satisfy me and tell the world that I am unto my own. And that much is enough and achingly worth seeking.

And yet, this self-found tenderness is not all, I know. The knee-bent sages are untraceable, and from within their hidden unknown places they send small letters concerning the how-to’s of my beyond myself. Reading them, I am stunned, but polite. It is then and here that I ravage myself. pillage myself, etc. For it is their words that slice me into plain view. What more could I ask for of this necessary exchange?

I am equalled and bested. My smirking heart shows me what I’m really made of and as I lay here, in discrete contemplation, wonder of the hideous import of my own words, and thus smirk once again.

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All day,

everyone is making wrong turns,

today, i am too tired to direct traffic.

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better to have better dreams than better writing…

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how do you see me?

you only get small hints.

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this heart,

with true aches,

lies locked under key,

for never.

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i initiate my self.

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i write to redeem myself,

my self, my fragment.

you who are to see me here,

where is it now?

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when i refer to myself, I wonder if it is just a pulsating.

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I want people to love me

just as much as

I want to love people

just as much as

I want to love myself

just as much as

I want them to love themselves

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i find innocence unto my self.

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I listen and listen for a truth made simpler.

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and some call it departing before arriving.

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i am desperate to impart, at least, a discerning eye.

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and so, despite her hasty conclusion, he continued on with his humble task with a smile.