The parchment and the blank space shall absorb all my postulated negativity..
And the smears of hope… Maybe it shall sing me a new song..anew answer..
With such an endeavoring wish tucked in my self.. Proceed I..
And smother I, it with my blunt words and purposeless thoughts..
Have I everything I need? And what is it I need and for what?
Have the people I love been cajoled yet? Cajoled by the time spent to stay on..
Why is acceptance a need, a need- so very binding?
Oh my… what if she gets what could be mine…
what if he takes away the spoon that could be mine..
To what end must it serve? to what end does need serve?
To need is to survive and to survive is to need, ain’t it?
Is what I own in me.. a shadow of what the other own?
Ought I to be better and different?
Is my ego to be grow on hedges and fence my crisscross ways?
Or must it slumber below..knead itself?
Has my own shadow darkened by heart?
Must my reflection in the eyes of the world be firmer…
Be colored in ways my self has not encapsulated…
Am I to be a master of my ego.. Or am I to be a servant?
To master it, ain’t it the same as to serve it?
Must I hide my faults.. must I smuggle the protruding black jewels into a dark corner..
Or must I smack it with laughter..
Why is beauty so well carved by symmetrical terms..
by eyes serving the proposed norms…
why is beauty such a need.. why is beauty so well sculpted in forms so well pruned.
Why must my beauty be compared and scripted and marked..
why must I serve a servitude to these very engraved thoughts…
To needs.. to pertinence with this humming civilization..
To be free from self.. free from want.. from desire…
Ohh how sumptuous..how freeing.. how embezzling is the thought of
“triumph over self”..
Ohhh..But how ensnaring to be turning in this cocoon of self..
but to reach no purposeful end.. desiring to be free from self.. and yet reaching nowhere..