some are motivated by fear
that fear rouses their anxiety
and they go running madly towards
all the things their heart is aiming at
fear does not motivate me
it arrests me
the illusions create shackles
and I overthink my solutions
to dust
some find themselves in others
place it upon their dressings
like a patch, etching a name
and become a quilt of all that tread
on their skin
I find nothing in others
to place upon myself
I’m naked and perusing strange gardens
half expecting a snake to taunt me
with a fig while calling it an apple
is this all there is?
you creator of all that is me
is this all that’s left?
am I just to tread on others flesh?
bear the markings and wave the flags?
I cannot find satisfaction
in painting my face
and rehearsing lines for a lover
I will never know
I cannot find satisfaction in this kind of love
so I refuse love
I refuse it!
if that is love I want nothing of it
if that is life
then leave me on a mountain
let me greet you
let me scold you
for what have you done?
all this flesh will rot
my dressings are not upon me
I am failing and nothing will love a thing like me
but I will chase the unseen
and live a life they believe to be obscene
not motivated by fear
my heart is not aiming at anything
my soul will not become a parasite
I will gaze at the sky until I die
and point my soul out of this body
and fly until the fire burns out
Early Dew of Morning 