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Oct 2017
I come before you,
As nothing in particular,
A great and tangled mass of feeling and want,
Something undefinable and abstract,
A question you can't answer,
I can't answer,
I know what you want it to mean,
And I don't know how to be that,
I only know how to be other,
I only know how to be outside,
A box you hesitate before checking,
A few seconds of doubt before you fall asleep,
I am a living Rorschach test,
What do you see here?
Something with weak wrists and skinny legs,
Too much hair and not enough ****,
All stomach, no guts,
Too much expression and not enough substance,
All mirror, no heart,
Some days, I'm a field of your mothers favorite flowers, sweet and delicate and light,
Some days, I'm your father's rifle, cold and brutal and everything you were ever right to fear,
The truth is, I can't tell you what I'm made of today,
I can only tell you that whatever you're thinking is wrong,
Today I am too much energy and not enough direction,
Today I am certain only in uncertainty
Today I will look in the mirror and I will see no damage,
No man, no woman,
No father, mother
Son, daughter
Husband, wife
I will see no evil at all,
And so I ask you again,
What do you see?
Tyler King
Written by
Tyler King  Ohio
(Ohio)   
  279
 
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