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Sunday, March 7, 2010

I Run

I run around the block of me

as the block is my disguise.

It is my way

of being separate from myself,

involved with self method

as dialogue

which I cannot claim

as my being.

Though complicated

from the outside in,

it seems too natural to occur

without objection or fanfare.

If I intake an experience

from it to myself,

a thousand goodbyes

said to myself inside later

does not mean

I have left or am leaving.

As uncomfortable as it is,

it is just something I do

as we all do

to be part of the reality

we retain as frame.

I fill time in between

with small pleasures

and preoccupations

and further bouts

of subsequent turmoil

with friends

I really like

and care for a lot.

I cannot be myself

authentically

without recourse of this kind

and so I identify

by this method

and upkeep.

Sure it is custodial

and I have come up

with a logic for it,

but it is seldom

inwardly expressed.

This, as a work permit,

does internally justify

my existence to me.

But if there are accusations,

inside of me made,

they are only the seeds

of self-doubt,

damp and sprouting

in dark places within . . .

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