happy
because i am happy,
this will not be a good poem.
every time i mock, there it is i soon find myself.
i am happy;
reality has cracked open.
there are horrors and there are crosses
we will blind ourselves and you will make us see
i will return from whence i came
and if i came from just dust
i have underestimated dust
i do not deny your criticisms
i accept them and welcome them.
you fail to consider it is not my creed:
it is my language. it is the shape of my thoughts.
and if the shape of my thoughts and my desires is all there is--
well, that's not nothing.
not. nothing.
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