By Ronald McKinley
Am I to hurt all the time?
The beginning and ending.
Is it an unchecked line?
One point leading to another.
Why is it so?
No magic elixir to cure me.
No thought or process to find me.
Some idea to trick me.
This unpleasant moodful thing.
Held together by need and fear.
Want is far
from me.
Caught held captive
wound after wound
none healing fully
before another.
No chemical could stay this.
Most deep reflection brings more pain.
This path I resist.
I will not walk that way
before the echo of the last foot fall
I return to the same vista.
I could empty my lungs
all would be the same.
Come apart and see
nothing but pieces.
Motion does not give way
to movement.
Placement will not
for a place with space for all to be.
Doors I fear barriers
to enlightenment.
My feet are cold
no longer warmed
by the combustion
of true life fire.
I wrap my arms around my torso.
An act of love and loss.
I know there is only one way
not feel pain.
I don’t go there.
I will try to work with what I have.
The world will move
If I will.
The world will move
If I do not.
All is not lost
only misplaced.