I used to want to fight
Commit violence on a large impersonal scale
For good
Protect things with my hands and body
But I haven’t even
Protected my hands and body from myself
I don’t feel violent anymore
I don’t want war or rending
I want truth and the exploration of soft places
Our bruises
The places life has made pulp of us
And left colors that shift from blues to greens to yellow
I want to be honest about the mind and space
That time has fallen through
How it’s just me
And the hand of time waves and the undulating currents of air hit at just so ever so different angles and my life appears as a series of different events
As if by magic
But it’s still me
And it’s still all the same
Over and over and over again
And I have this need to express it
To not stay quiet and hidden
And safe from all the other voices who do
Choose violence and not understanding
They choose hard things, certain things
They choose names and outlines
And the carving up of everything with its conscientious sorting
You’re in you’re out
It’s so simple
Morals
These days
Except what we’re fighting for isn’t simple
It’s complex
It’s the entirety of us
With all our parts
All of everyone’s parts
Because what’s playing out on a large scale is a giant
Disgust
Pasted over the misunderstandings and stuffed soft parts in cupboards with locks on them
We fight each other because of the parts of each other we deem unacceptable
We
Who are we?
Who are you and why
Do you want to know
What do you feel like
Inside
What’s that landscape of colored parts and bits that hide from light because
They know better
Than to show you
They’re there