for a year lived in fear and anger
being incapable of letting go
then just self pity of the revolting secret kind
the kind of sadness that one does not admit
and
instead tries to overcome through austerities
of the brutal kind bowing bowing bowing
a second year of inner nonsense
of hate of hurt of confusion
being incapable of letting go
more austerities more bowing
endless mantra
let go
let go
let go
third year filled out papers
moved apartments
getting out of anger
hear the machinist next door
grinding rails
walk to the ocean
having no more
to ask for
++
HB
2014
July
1 comment:
say, where'd my comment go?
was it too honest?
no worries, the truth is beautiful no matter the assault it endures...
xxoxooox
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