Monday, February 17, 2025

poem

 Pieces

The snow came down like flecks of broken glass

Stung my cheeks and watered my eyes


Old memories appeared as shards of a cracked past that

Reassembled as a series of Cubist mosaics 


I stand in front of the full length bedroom mirror in the dark

In order to understand why dark reflects dark— you can see anything you want. 


If the world is only a complicated conjuring of collective mind

Then anything bad that happens is all on us. 


Our thoughts are responsible for every single thing

Every tear, every lonesome night, every inner scream


If that isn’t the basis of your morality 

Then you’ll always be a scrap torn from the cloth 


2/17/25

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