Here's it

here's that

here's everything.

the discovery, the rise, the fall

the fall, so steep, so black, so surprising

sliding on your skeleton

carrying your deserved cross


yourself, you, as in-

you, as in yourself

just you, yourself?

if experiences contribute,

decisions contribute,

mistakes, joy, humor, failure, desire,

those things you've taken

and those things that have taken you

all under some wide, ever-opened umbrella

called personality, or identity, or


your essence

your core

what separates you from her or him

your body, your genes,

what color is it, the umbrella?

do you know? does anyone?

molding your own face from day one

just a blank space where a label is to be later put?

present yourself in one light-

just one, one attempted image

but everyone has glasses, each tinted a different color

so how could it possibly matter?

that origional color?

who cares?


then there's that one guy, that one girl,

that one fluorescent being who

possibly, maybe, probably not,

but possibly might see that origional color

that first coat of wax before you turned brown

but then-

but then- wait.

that's a lie

a lie you created and presented

assembled, painted, finished, tied up with a pretty shiny silver bow

and the whole thing's worthless, pointless, pathetic

so go ahead, paint yourself red

black or blue

so what?

so everything

so nothing at all

matters at all

just sit there, you

you kid, you thief

you pretty little liar

you beautifully hideous, shapeless lump of wax

that they all created

you clueless, pointless, straw-filled expressionless doll

sitting there writing

an empty convoluted poem about

some abstract war waged invisibly

so damn often


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