This time there will be no poetry
No songs, no tearful prose
No floating into thoughtscape as I
stare at the tiny lights that play
across the walls of my dark room.
No, this time will be dry.
Functional, minimal, standard.
Only the necessary detachment procedures
as I relish the realization
of having got over emotion.
This time I can save time
for the things that count
work, produce, live as before
and revel in my growing strength
as weakness dies an early, sad death in me.
3 thoughts on “This time”
Ooooof, superman akkebare.
But you noticed I mourn the death of weakness, right?
Of course. But just wait for emotion/weakness/whathaveyou to come sucker-punch you when you least expect it.
PS Weakness counts too, or you wouldn’t be human in quite the same way.