welcome back.

i have sat here before –
asking stars to explode
and stream across the black sky
so that i might believe in wishes

i have wished for answers to
questions like

‘why must conflict exist’ and –
‘what is it about perspective
that makes us feel strong’ and –
‘why have these nightmares stopped’

why, indeed –
what is it about the
war i have witnessed that makes
hallucinations of euphoria
so much more vivid –

i have sat here before,
staring into white voids
of infinite potential and wondering –
if these sheets as swords can give
paper cuts, then how can i hope
to cause real, physical sensations
with nothing but a pen

i cannot help but feel as though
writers and poets
are given entirely too much credit –

these words come from what i See –
so i’ll say this:

if pain can be art –
if faith can blossom
without sparkled wings and halos –
if Hitler was genius
before he was cruel –
if, like everything else,
there’s a time and a place
for drives like mania, hysteria,
and insanity –
if there is something to learn
in every shadow of the past,
no matter how enveloping and
suffocating it may be to even
fathom the existence of
such scars –
if sunsets can be beautiful
to the colorblind like heaven is
to the masses –

then composers
of prose and poetry
are nothing more than
neo-pubescent suitors;
desperately courting the mistress
of knowledge
every chance they get.

~ by cptgibbs on July 31, 2011.

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