literature

Cytoarchitecturally Definable (Day Two)

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Published: Jul 3, 2014

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Literature Text

three,
two,
one,
beginning cogitation

1.
I’m a deeply
homesick child,
for a place
I’ve never been to.

A place,
in this puzzle
of life
where I am not
cutting away parts
of myself
to fit.

2.
My nook is helping you.

Because when I help you,
it helps me.

So while it is flattering,
to be called selfless,
I’m actually rather
the opposite.

3.
I hope no one realizes
that my twisting labyrinth
of a personality
and mind,
is just a way to keep
people running in circles
while they try to
figure me out.

4.
I always char my toast,
and my paralimbic cortex.

I suppose I’m insane,
for doing the same thing,
on the same temperature,
day after day,
and expecting a different result.

5.
Although I
tend to hide
under the
suffocating vestiges
of teenage angst
and over-dramatization,
sometimes a voice
of doubt in my
own assured
tenacity,
whispers to me
that I am a fool
playing with fire:
treading on
the edge of madness
and lucidity.

6.
There are watermarks
for every battle
I have fought,
every place
I have gone,
every painful word
I have heard,
and every person
I have met,
diluting my cornea
and hiding within
Langer’s lines across
my skin.

7.
Of those who
have seen me
express my
honest emotions,
there are even less
who have seen me
truly furious.

Anyone who attempts to
control me
or hurt someone
I care about,
had best
remember that
it's always
the quiet ones.

8.
If you’ve allowed me
beneath your skin,
and into your heart,
I will not be pulled away
or discarded
easily.

If I've allowed you
beneath my costume,
and into my core,
the process of
leaving me
will be far
too easy.

9.
When I glimpse myself
I have an
overwhelming urge
to tear myself apart
layer by layer,
until there is nothing
of this
left.

So I’m thankful
you can see
beauty in tragedy,
and idiocy,
and pain,

and in me,

because I cannot.