I Lie

I lie

Face down on futtons

One inch from terra firma

My weight, light on the cushion

My being, burdened by pasts

Wooden floors bend

My mass unbearable

Creaking it asks me to unload,

Let go and release, lest timber

break into fibrous dust

Ask not the ocean

To give up all its waters

For nothing will come of it

Waters will follow unopposed paths

Carved by the years of hurting

A deluge, a flooding

Forests of flaura

Cleansed, a fleck of dust

In a clean room

Fire hosed away

Everything gone

What remains?

But anger, unwashed.

I lay


Layer upon layer, year upon year

removed, til I reach the core

Where it all began

I am

A child




I see

An old man





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