conceived and disinherited by love
my depths of uncharted divinity
and daunting darkness is by design of creators who,
relatively speaking, (without exception)
made that house of mirrors
feel like a home

oh, the days i’ve wasted
wandering empirically therapeutic halls
bumping into familiar reflections
and distorted perceptions
of memories that hold me
for my own amusement
such antiquated saunters
made less lonely holding hands
with disillusionment

so quietly i count
strides in my head
not always forward
but forever ahead

with gratitude for my mother
and in memory of my father