You don’t have to yell for me,
I am here,
Taking it all in.
The bugs have begun to bite,
Yet it is all good,
I expected as much,
And I’m as good as ever,
Good to go, ever going,
Ever intrigued by the social demeanor.
What ever the fuck that is…
The lack of confidence through truth.
Instead you invent confidence through the mirror,
Ever reaching for something that
Couldn’t exist without propaganda.
Truth has no propaganda,
It… just is,
Swirling around the madness,
Reaching for that ever elusive counterpoint,
Reaching for that ever confounded passion.
Coral is my first physical
Confrontation with the truth.
My first passionate cry for togetherness.
I expect failure,
Yet every experience without
Leaves me hinting of ecstasy,
Of me thinking she could be worth it.
Then there is truth tapping me on the shoulder,
Living my life,
Telling me she could be the one,
Not the only one if she chooses not,
But the first of a new light of intellectuals;
They thought I had let them go,
And so they left,
To the left,