battle hymn

is there a tree i can climb
this back is broken
in the sense that it isn't doing what it is meant to
lurching and springing is part of the ride
and it is ok in my solitude
where can we go where there is no need for
eloquence
i will make you king of this place
and find another for myself

it is hard to accept something so acerbic as a person into your own zen
you have to look for the creases with great care
and then fold them into the shape they should be
these days i get many sent to me by mistake
i do not have the time to fold them all and
nobody seems concerned by their absence
the clamor they make spins my head
and makes me second guess my self diagnoses

stockholm syndrome?
no, i am not that dramatic
i could leave this place
that i am so near to the top of maslow's pyramid gives me great comfort
and complacency as well
there are gardens here, too
instead, each day i slowly forget myself
piece by piece until i have some quiet
it is not every day that i achieve this
so i am trying to forget days

my only great concern is my own intuition
it is less sharp than it is incisive
sometimes i am too free with it and gouge holes into myself
all over my body
each of them heals differently
i waste my joie de vivre making sure they scar beautifully and
purposefully
purposefully
purposefully

herein lies my fight