I am wondering whether

There are certain things

I can talk to you about.

Things that no one else

Has heard before and

Things that if uttered

From my mouth would

Cause a crack in my tinted

Porcelain. Unless you find

Crack(s) to be beautiful –

I am separated by degrees,

Degrees, and separation.

My profession is simply

To make myself whole again

It always is. I was once

A mythical being, filled

With this radioactive glow…

Going a bit off


I throw tantrums,

Across rooms and

Build fortresses

With my beard

Locking irrational

Thoughts up like

Rapunzel didn’t

Have a hookup

On the best weave

In the forest. Fires

Build in me, passionate

I’ve become, about

Being simplistic, and

Letting things rot

That have given up

On achieving greatness

People do not change, we just alter our masks, to fit more