I obscure my darkness to walk through life content, shadow feelings under the bed.
Convoluted darkness just below my navel only,
My prescient dreams adumbrate what my
body holds in, refusing to release its undulating grasp
like a cranky child crying, needing attention and touch.
Male proginator, emotional vampire and…ironically,
my ally as a bridge to freedom in the face of neglectful, unfeeling, autocratic child bearer.
Tremulous adolescence, when the course succor so needed is vacuous at best,
Cynical vexation felt so keenly in their insensitivity to my easily affected, young, psychic heart.
They didn’t even know what the fuck psychic was if it wasn’t in the bible.
What could I have been?
What happy life could I have had if their crispy, mucous eyes had been open a crack?
That shadow feeling could spiral me down so quickly if I focused on it, so I only do it here
for release…because it’s bullshit, and my life is not bullshit, so I’m not filling it with that.
What is more helical bullshit that parental ignorance with an innocent, lovely child born in light and returning to light?
How twisted and contorted can adults get following societies rules, books, beliefs and materialistic hysteria when they have in front of them a free soul, their child, needing only love by degrees, free roam by yards, food by weight and expression without limit?
The shadow of light is a contrast as lesson
I’m using it to soar to the heights,
To rip asunder familial right to the soul of a child.
Whether in love or delusion
each child belongs to themselves only.
Just as roots do not dictate how far, wide and what direction a tree will grow,
so too, shadow roots deep below the ground only hold it in place while the wind, sky, and sun call us ever higher to dance with all of life above ground, storm and calm, for as long as we wish to live.
I hail from you but I am not you.