What if I answered the question
As if it was asked?
By someone who demanded an answer.
Fuck, that’s it. Let this experiment rip.
To the one(s) arriving(again) soon
I am afraid
That if i speak it
Define it and truly want it
That it won’t come
That I am not enough
[yet? again? Ever?]
That you’ll wrap fingers to throat
And suffocate this undeserving thing
Ungratefully extending hand when her other is full and refilled
Though constantly spilled out to another
Believing too that she does not deserve anything
For her wrecklessness
Or can she?
[This is the returns from hell and back…]
She can no longer give integrity as an offering
If she wants more than distrustful suffering
If there is no way to right their course,
then all must disperse
and that is death to she
Without thee, She thinks She’s dying
And part of her has already
But death it is
for it is better than
being that which is shamefully on the table still;
In the context of their wills.
But what is her desire?
The inner ping/ that inner fire?
[She dreams in macro lens
In a life sized world
Little things on fingers twirled]
Some would say it\’s because she\’s simple minded;
But she proposes needing less is better than more
(Certainly easier to get to)
Avoiding the question with awkward plops to floor…
Staring back the asker questioned and pressed through
Until she answered with her most guarded truths…
An artists life with good works done,
enough space, food, health, and time to share;
Love, trust, and honesty in home, her heart and with those certain someones.