write about what hurts?
the strong pull
of the earth?
the way the sky falls
down each night
and blackness
closes in on the land.
the way my soul cries out at particular
guitar notes or
bass lines that pull me apart?
the way a hand to the spine owns me, falling dependent.

maybe instead...i write about what
heals?
how pages and pages of tear-stained
ink resuscitated me.
how i decided
bleach should
only be used for whites
and not ever for souls.
how the moon's
shadow dug me from
my grave.
how in the darkest
and most lonely
of hours it was
my own strength
that held me in
place.
how the future
became so much
less terrifying
when i began living
in the now.

or, i could list what irks me;
brilliant cut diamonds
that make claims,
empty cavern souls
with pearlescent
teeth and frozen
grins.
green gods caked in coke
and
empty promises.
bank accounts
filled with false
hope, and
gas tanks charged
ready for escape.
i'd write of any of
that, if there were matter.
but the ears are closed
and they eyes,
flaming sockets.

so instead,
i'll write of what
i want, or of
what i need.
avoiding
what i already know, already tainted
limited, and empty ego-
shadow boxing.