In My Head

24 Jan

I am the poet of insecurity, and the self consciousness of the soul.
those that came before me know me. and I know them.
if in this infinity I should be subjected to some harsh misunderstanding
I might be enabled to fly with freedom and never return to this hollow place.
I hope to make a departure, some ineffable thought and never return.
and so the truth sounds a hollow chord and favor’s lost forever hear
and know me, for it is within you that I speak , I only wish to be consolable,
to see I only wish to see.

I cannot be described I cannot be denied
I cannot be remorsed I cannot be relived
I cannot be unborn I cannot be born again
I cannot be rehearsed, I cannot be without
some perfection that I cannot be

remember you who look to come my way
ease, simplicity, become things beyond grasp
beyond reach , beyond sight

my internal workings, I think to edit them,
I think to unleash them also, but I can’t forgive myself, having
no cause for retaliation , and lashing out anyway.
in my mind, there is no thought, in my mind

© 1990-2010 brent david fraser, all rights reserved

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