in those days
I could not tell
the One
from the
Other

Stop distracting me,
Stop tearing me apart,
Stop holding me down,
Stop ... dissolving me!
You stick to me! Help!
I chop off whatever I can see,
Leaving a few bits here and there,
But it corrodes me still.

Either I will
Be very good
Or very bad;
In my middle ground
Lie burnt bridges
And sunken ships.
One shore or the other
Is where I will land,
I refuse to drown
In the waters between.
Others have built
Makeshift rafts
And occasionally,
Large boats, on which
They peacefully navigate.
But this I scorn.
Though the horizon shows
No evidence of any other
Feature but endless water,
The isles do exist,
And I will not rest
Until I have found one of them.
I hope it is the better one.
But I have lived
Many years now,
Having spurned
The floating comforts
Where others gathered,
And can no longer guard against
The temptation of dry land
After a lifetime afloat.

She said my sky,
My sky is full of stars.
But look, she said,
I'm looking at them
Through these bars.

Ooh, that feels good ...
... what was it I stepped on again?

The moon was melting today,
And I brought out my cone.

My reflection grew blurry,
So I shut my eyes.

Trip, and if you
Keep doing it often enough, you'll
Tip over and run the last time, just
Rip through the road and the people,
The things and events and
The trials and the tragedies,
Till you find
Your momentum, and you
Go off on a tangent, and you
Fly through the air, and
Escape.

And I'm just sitting here,
Biding my time.
Useless, you say?
Useless it may
Well be.
Am I lazy?
Am I revolting?
Am I just
Standing by,
Waiting for you,
To get behind you,
To make my move?