FreeRovingBovineOur words reduced. Stories dropped, killed. We had less, less and lesser to say until we had nothing. Pardon my eavesdropping but this silence too, is a conversation in both desperation and wisdom.
Escapril 2023 has begun! I am grieving many losses and there is no better vent than poetry. April 2: Eavesdropping.
For people like me, it is discomfort to navigate space, to stand still and observe, to dissolve apprehensions. Our world is a box with no other being. Only their effect-- their eyes. People like me, We catch movements. Hidden conversation. Hateful eyes, mocking eyes. We reel them in with fear, and revel in them. It is always about us. They hate us. For people like me, private spaces do not exist. There is a constant eye-- My eye in another's eye. I'm the only person we watch, critically. Every move, a fault. Every thought, judgment.
Pain is a burrow that digs itself into the crevices of your mind deeper and deeper. Each shovel striking deep into fresh organic mind, harder than it's predecessors. They never stop digging, these madenning shoveliers. They only pause, and like all pauses before this too is temporary, waiting to strike again after a short break.
FreeRovingBovine 