Monday, November 9, 2009

face it

confronted with flames destroying your face-
but in being forced to withstand it all becoming hardened like clay you numb-
a liquid tear drips from a solid eye
and you stand still-
your whole life it breaks you apart-
but in being forced to withstand it all you become who you are-
weakness strikes every part of your weary mind
fighting an imaginary battle; a manifested problem-
and losing.
and then coming to terms with losing-
worthless, hopeless, and still
there is always light at a distance from the mindfuck at hand though,
and I am beautiful.
I don't deserve any of this and I am not wrong

1 comment:

  1. I am glad you are writing, and it was really, really great to see you this weekend. Despite the content of these writings, you seemed really happy and sorted when I saw you. I hope I didn't misinterpret.

    For whatever reason, I think November has been a cruel month to a lot of people this year. Dean, you are a temple! Stand firm, even in the face of a sand storm, in the middle of the desert.

    I'll be home for a month in three weeks. I'd like to see your new place and get to know you again. Jah?