rip me open to repair me, right
change my thought patterns,
heal my sight

make me see all my bullshit,
what it is
betrayal of the self
should never have been
the break, bone, wish

the things we do to ourselves, unbelievable
just to think, for a moment
"escape the wounds", be receivable

by some force,
some universe, unknown
then karma strikes,
with a blunt blow,
stung

like living inside the burn,
bruise, blood
the tear in the skin, scabbed
itching, stitched, come

a constant reminder
just another lost human, underneath
with a dream, an "other half"
our whole, found, complete

that "one", in warmth
electrify, envelope the sheets
embody, in body, psyche
the "always", in connective rhythm
heartbeats

that pulse together
two storms struck, lightning
tethered
to the gift, awareness, "adored"
is a state called "truly"
rare, in existence, anymore..

so simple, yet, so tragically complex
in a world, "can't wait",
for what comes next
"hypnotized, not to live in the now"
but for "the next one", unzipped
"they might be even more hung, well endowed"

or better cherry, chosen
more ready and willing
to be "popped, licked, lolly, opened"
in a land of "no one owes you a thing"
think about the selfishness implied,
what's that?
it's called an "alone", scarring sting

that alters you, immeasurably
somehow numbs "the plumb"
tart, so pleasurably
passed around, from the tree of life
what is a whore, but someone's
"dishes done", drained wife

or husband, home
but emasculated for
the credit card, "more!"
replace what we've got,
what, with we don't need
"it was perfectly fine",
but watch, the cycle repeats

the one that in volumes, of silence,
it speaks
too often, we are strangers,
chosen partners, spread, sheets
it's "don't ask, don't tell"
in a hole, as in "rabbit",
devours "the divine", dreams
our dwell

upon all that, which we want,
think, "don't have"
but is often right there,
right in front of us, fell

but can't see it, blind
to the truth, fear, "too kind"
to the fixation, it has to look
exactly as we picture,
like a catalogue, flipped,
frothing, foaming, at the mouth
"perfect fixture"

that we never find, of course
look back, as in "don't"
you just might feel that thing
called remorse
you just might see the truth
that was there
all along, the mirror
your seeping sad eyes, haunted stare

so please, take heed
and please, be aware
sometimes "the seek", in your sought
it's right there.
the soul that's present in focus,
whole being
but you are blind to it,
doesn't fit, your ideal
only seeing..

that which isn't
not that, which is
that, what is fated,
your "underneath",
"careful", wished

as sometimes, the universe
in all it's "mysterious ways"
it has other plans...

and it sees through,
knows all our games.

the one's we've played,
to oblivion and back
the ones on ourselves,
our worst enemy, attacked

so take a seat,
grab some popcorn, relax
watch the film, in your mind,
play out

and the answers, in the end
final reel, leave no doubt

that the war, it was you,
inside me, all along
and, for the same in reverse,
to be revealed..

you've gotta be ready,
stand, unbelievably

strong.


bowen hart roselli
8 july 2020
ringwald love