Arbitrary Life


We don’t erase the past.

It all just fades in place.

Working itself out

like infection,

purged from us

by our immunity.


Tragic and subtle suffering,

scars that laid on the skin,

like a latticework road map

guiding you

to the heart of me.


Did my deals with demons.

Earned every stroke of the whip.

No recompense for disaster,

I just grew up along with it.


The crack of bone,

the nights of terrorism,

all for some guiding light

of love I never felt,

just confusion,

in an arbitrary life.


Much older, now.

It seems that time

lets me ask questions;

will the answers suffice?


Could the cost be

too much to bear?

Suffer as a matter of course,

and then,

one day,




I don’t think

that’s how

I want life to be.



HG – 2021

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