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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