stepping and slapping the past of all its consequence
my mistress the present whips me back like her bitch
realizing this mess is just all that it is
it doesn’t get much better I just got easier
one day at a time all works out in the end
of the struggle that never ceases
one breath at a time to face down death
every step is a denuding of comfort
drop my hopes open the blossom of vulnerability
like loosening the knots on ropes that gripped
my arms down like impotent will
nothing like being the young bull walking along
looking down a bucket balls right outside the stalls
the line of prods with handlers grabbing holding
blades swiftly cutting away the thread of fertility
knowing yours are next inevitably what’s to come will be
I spasm against the angst that chews me up
throws me around back gagged and bound
my eyes shut enslaved to what I’m left to guess
mouth gaping unable to express it’s the pain
that makes me gasp when life kicks back right in the teeth
in the gutter lying there helpless I splayed half dead
I confess I never saw the train coming
other than the light that shone in the distance
dimly then the bit of saving grace was the tiny sliver
shaved me away thrown off the rails spared this time
slipped like a tiny kiss down the alley and blown past
your beauty wrapped around me
straddling a crisis in action
I own this baby the battle and the sweat
punching out my rounds with imaginary
enemies named with the faces of those I wish
I could forget like the nemesis I’ve yet not met
the medicine pointing to poison
mine by essence suck me out
breathe easy as I rest cradling limp
in the physician’s embrace a curative
for all ailments rests somewhere in the illness itself
the only way out is through baby doll
the only way to know is to do
mistakes mark my skin traveled like miles living
the prison disease is that I can’t live without me
like it or not, no matter where there I am
the imputation remains erroneous and solid
reification falls apart under the tests that bend
the girl in the window who hoped for everything
reality can be chilling so lower me your strength
and I’ll spring back to life in the heat of ephemeral
touch but for a moment the universe will barely notice
and before I know it I’ll blink out before I mattered
obscure and unknown castrated by a collective of norms
hoof to horn I know I’m stubborn like the storm
and will not let go until I’m crushed and then I’ll know
once again how small my fretting was in the face
of the all-flowing changing happening without narrative
cattle prod to the butt I’m looking down the bucket
knowing I’m next kicking my will out in this present
one step at a time to acceptance

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