from the archives...

As I went about the process of clearing out my flash drive for this upcoming semester, I stumbled upon this lovely composition. It was written on a whim during my summer at GHP, and I was fortunate enough to read it at Coffee House. It's not perfect, but it's me :)

I am dissonance—

rising, falling,

intertwined in my own

confused paradox—

harsh, jarring, unresolved—yet

beautiful in my own

juxtaposition of sound and

Truth.

I am sunlight—

blinding even to myself—

Glaring.

A Glorious display of a

not so Glorious self.

I hide behind my brilliant light,

masking my dense inner Core.

Those who witness my intensity

probe and question, awestruck and—

I just question.

I am wind—

Wild, Untamable—

Master of my own Indecision.

I cannot be held in a bag,

O great Odysseus!

The Night comes and I settle,

rising, falling—

tying the drawstrings as I

enclose myself in a

scratchy burlap sack of

my own Creation.

I am soul—

filled with the amorous Jealousy of

the Black Ram, pushing forward,

pulling, doubting—

The Ancient clutches me in his trustworthy hands,

molding, spinning,

shaping my Truth into a

Grotesque, Distorted image of

what I Am

Not.

But I allow it, because perhaps…

I am seeker—

yearning for what my pale hands fail to

Grasp,

reaching the Pinnacle, unable to breathe—

a white haze hangs over me.

I raise my eyes, staring into the Emptiness—

my Emptiness—

and I sound my own barbaric Yawp,

not over the roofs of the world

but over the walls and ceilings of my

self-perpetuated Frustration.

I am—

I teeter on the skeletal Edge of

my Emptiness and

my Past,

knowing (hoping) that somewhere,

beyond this impenetrable self-barrier,

lies a place where dissonance—

sunlight—

wind—

soul—and

seeker

Rise up and take their place among

Truth and

Self.

I will rise up, for—

I am Wings.