Neither man nor woman
Does it sting? Stinging,
to read that? To think that?
Do you know the kind of life I lead?
To be stuck with
a synonym for mirror,
the dreadful thing.
But
But, even the ocean has a horizon
Let me go,
go over it.
Let me surpass everything.
Because I pass.
Not in the mirror,
but I pass,
in spirit, gently,
and with all the conviction.
All the combustion
All the clouds
of a sun.
The Sun.
Forge me into a solid glass;
a chemicals
I’m begging myself.
Myself,
myself.
I’m this travel bag
of chemicals
not made for the spaces
cars or feet make.
I am this immiscible thing,
sometimes hated.
Oh God, never man nor woman.
Scratches don’t hurt anymore.
No, I don't feel pain at all.
I’m happy.
Maybe.
Maybe, I’m happy.
Jul 21, 2025
Jul 21, 2025 at 6:05 PM UTC
Neither man nor woman
Does it sting? Stinging,
to read that? To think that?
Do you know the kind of life I lead?
To be stuck with
a synonym for mirror,
the dreadful thing.
But
But, even the ocean has a horizon
Let me go,
go over it.
Let me surpass everything.
Because I pass.
Not in the mirror,
but I pass,
in spirit, gently,
and with all the conviction.
All the combustion
All the clouds
of a sun.
The Sun.
Forge me into a solid glass;
a chemicals
I’m begging myself.
Myself,
myself.
I’m this travel bag
of chemicals
not made for the spaces
cars or feet make.
I am this immiscible thing,
sometimes hated.
Oh God, never man nor woman.
Scratches don’t hurt anymore.
No, I don't feel pain at all.
I’m happy.
Maybe.
Maybe, I’m happy.
from march 12 2024
poem from the past a day #63
an underserved, disturbed meditation on the obvious.
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