|Early Days (CAI 2023)|
When words are as exhausted as I am
When even paintings seem too verbose
When the people with the most understanding misunderstand substantially
and like their version better
Does it even make sense to express?
So it must be for me, I guess
I must want to for me or I wouldn't be here, typing
I wouldn't be here, trying
when trying hasn't gotten me as far as one might expect.
I'm working through something, that has nothing to do with anything
but my own experience, my own gut, my own integrity
in a body of limited lifespan on a planet at a moment of history
in a place I've chosen
cloaked and hidden in my warren
expressing through the illusion
my own little versions of truth
Not for you, but maybe for you
if you're here, if the universe sent you.
Out loud is the price of my privilege to speak.