out where the light is.

Some people live their lives not able to materialize

their hearts & souls.

Unable to produce a functioning image of what the hell is happening amongst the chaos & darkness & creation inside their cage of a body.

I am ailed with the opposite of this common cold.

I am not a hero.

I am not a coward.

I am not hurting.

I am not at ease.

I am not sad.

I am not happy.

I am…

I am a house.

An antiquing establishment,

shaking over an ever-aging foundation.

I am a basement.

Stewing below the earth

in a cold, musty air that has filled no lungs in quite some time.

I am a box.

A broken, locked up

crate that hasn’t seen the light in 20 some years.

I am the contents of this box.

A beautiful failure of a mess

just waiting to be discovered & revived & set to life.

I am a man.

Take me to the river.

Put me under.

Out where the light is.