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.