Exorcise my eyes, soak them in gasoline. Reinstate
to homeostasis then try and tell me how you’ve been.
Maybe then the iodine infused assurances will burn
up with my vision of you and we can both move on
knowing that allowing lies to permeate persistence
is the saddest thing anyone could ever do.
Look past the scar on my neck and the knife in my pocket. Push
through to you, me and the Great Questions we would always posit.
Maybe then we could hold our heads high and know its not
the end of the road; reconciliation has never been
the true escape. Alignment of the other with the self
seems only one half the scale.
The lightning rod connections my brain makes when I spiral into that home only I know and keep reserved for the times the people I love the most seem so far away and the stranger that lives in my brain knocks on the front door and asks for a minute of my time///
This. And all of uncertainty’s aggression
leaves me still with one question.
Are you able to see me?