We Are Kidding Ourselves

We are kidding ourselves

I sit
to write
the words of
my life
I wonder how
many before,
despite shattering
screams,
where never
truly
heard

what words
we construe
I pace
I plant the seeds
of fools ideas
tend the gardens of
my mind
and converse with
a bundle;
infinite little
pieces
of me



Are you in love. Have you ever been in love. What is love,anyway? Some four-letter-word uttered under the cover of blankets and sheets, on the tops of mountains, in front of the sink in the kitchen, knives watching like jealous sharpened heads. Are we capable of forgetting ourselves enough. to love. To clasp the hand of forever and bound two souls, uneventfully. As though they were born to be together, even free. Some desperate human trait (flaw even?) drives us to seek it. find it. No matter the view, I find it's always love that I wished I knew. I seek the hand in the dark of night, like a strength that I couldn't have found inside myself. We seek it as though it might complete us. The wise will say: Be complete, and give yourself in love. But what if 'and' was traded for 'then'. What might we discover if we found ourselves complete, and Then discovered that ugly little curse of love. (okay maybe it's not ugly. or a curse.) What if.....


If you do not know who Saul Williams is, correct this Immediately. Today I received my copy of Said the Shotgun to the Head
in my lovely university PO Box. My Christmas present to myself.

Today:
Love
Mandy