She had no eyes,
saw it coming none the less.
She felt it in her bones,
felt it on the breeze,
not like anything she’d ever known.
It promised she’d be free,
she had no heart to feel,
but somehow she was touched.
Saw what it was to be
loved by one so much.
Changed what she was,
not what she believed.
Sometimes we don’t get to decide,
something else makes our minds;
pries open our eyes,
drags us to the other side.
Each one of us is missing
something critical.
We all have things
we’d rather be without,
but if we let it go
in the moment
we might learn
what we are all about.
Nothing has to be perfect.
Something’s never real
’til you hurt it.
Pushing on an old wound,
just to prove it’s there;
that we still care.
Flick the lights off,
sit in silence.
While it’s trying,
it’s alive.
In the absence
of senses
we can comprehend.
When disconnected,
we can exemplify,
when segregated,
when we wait;
it’s so good.
Left behind by the trend,
we compromise with no one
and find a friend;
in the wasteland left again.
Break and bend.
Missing the point,
because it’s all made up
and we don’t want to join.
I’d live larger
missing the parts you hold on high,
than if I sewed on all those dead parts
to be one of the finishers
who didn’t even start,
but I’ll be whole
when it all falls apart.
I was never missing anything
and you weren’t either;
I’ll see you in the ether.
HG – 2015
