Why is it so survival-crucial to be confident flying solo,and yet life's most beautiful and delightful stories are about a human journey into breaking down one's carefully constructed survival-fortresses?
Why are friendships so alternately wonderful, and so devastating?
When will I stop hungering and give...is my heart a bottomless cistern? a sieve?
Why am I so deaf,
so wooden,
so blind and dumb?
Oh, sweet infants abandoning the womb for the sting of air, the clanging of cymbals and gongs...
crying because warmth and nature's IV are replaced with a roller coaster of hunger and discomfort between the answers, the satisfaction, the dry warmth of being bathed, clothed, and fed.
Is it hunger or relief that teaches a person to share?
We're all in this crushed ice together, but we hide our faces and set our teeth.
Being inside a mirror is the most wretched of places, magnifying light, doubling shadows whichever way I face.
And mirrors create illusions,
parallel worlds where love thrives,
or dies,
and to describe a single truth--to dispel ambiguity--is to grasp for pieces of glass and piece them together.
bona fide truth is available in bulk,
but at what cost?
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