There is nothing about my physical condition
That has played a role in my eventual fate.
My emotional context will turn every last strong ounce of me
To lifeless waste
I have directed this voyage of life
To pride myself in remaining sensitive
Has been my clever downfall
I built a weakness beneath my stronghold
A foundation of fools
Cracker-thin and without insurance.
Had I spent more time in the pool of disdain
Absorbing the hatred directed towards,
Eating and learning its coarse and poisonous habits
Making them mine...
Habitually, Dedicatedly, Morosely and Distinctly.
I would be stronger today.
Double-fisted and gifted
Able to make assessments and Strike
Straight to the heart of every heartless foreigner
Known to me; to my life, my loves and my woe.
Hardened, strengthened, cornered and full of spite
If I sucked in all that fodder
Chewing and learning every fucked and dirty secret
Each connived and devilish act-
Would now belong to me
I would own the gift of War.
Able to lift a finger and win
With little more than a fly's deflection;
Ease of the opponent's surrender would become futile-
More evil would become me
I'd need blood, bones and their Memories
To feel a worthy win.
Deceit, disgust, derelict and divisive
To allude to myself that this may have been an easier fate
I am comatose in my thinking to have even travelled that path
Who I am is a mixture of Time;
Tenderness found its way around terror
A child grew to love Hope before Hatred
A Home before a Hovel
...and escape the consternation of a broken spirit.
To write is to remind
To read is to remember
Is my attempt in letting go...