Mindlessly applauding
the torn for choosing right
denies the open weight felt
of them not choosing left
The ripping of blank paper
is heard in your
congratulations and affirmations
Giving pride that isn't yours to hold
remains unknowingly empty
Wrapped well
Recieptless
Let go of optimistic ear muffs
and bright yellow shades
Yeild.
Tugging left turns
misled me to the same stop sign
begging to be dismissed
Lost in a spiral,
in my own left turns,
not abandoned but alone
Despite being desperately sought,
these roads are different in the dark
No comfort or guidance
in this backpack made of bricks
with bricks too sharp for a stuffed bear,
bricks too large for a lamp
Concern and direction
slip through
the cracks and the bricks
in the deafening darkness
Left again,
just one more time
What shades am I wearing,
what muffs are mine
that instruction is muffled,
that care is shaded grey
Even still,
my lefts are my right
my right to make
and to hold
and to keep
and to breathe
and to bleed
Save your pride
and your rosey half-full glasses
Hold your applause
and the promise of a later okay
Acknowledge the bricks
I am carrying now
They are concrete
More so,
than the life you see
that might never live to be
