Borders

It is simple

basic

I will not tell you


If success is viable

whether I have picked

or not


A progression

Across dark dark landscapes

despite:


Contours of hell,

I navigate

There is not rest:


I work harder than anyone else

here

my home is a psych ward


few will understand

my demand for passion

and lust


I understand I need

to be published

like a dog needs its microchip


Maybe I need it more

than I need

most anything


I will revive myself

and write meager scraps

because not much is profound


Not much is celestial.

The border is

between here and heaven


Rhyming takes time

and focus

and intention


I need to cross into my spot

I want Andrews McMeel

After ten years of captivity


Show me

something

that is not trauma


Writing is best

I will take my books

Into aviation


I will thrive

off of

these last couple years


And the feedback

From running on fumes

shifting into validation


Will impact

even

STEM physics and maths.


Ultimately

I will help

You and everyone else.