(presented without context and crossposted)
Dust
My mindset is a solar flare, my body a damaged vessel; serviceable.
I had to lose one to build the other.
Simultaneous existence was never feasible.
It chose me in this instant. Strength in weakness. Persistence in pain.
I see that nemesis of a hill approaching and I sweat beads of resentment.
The hill is not my enemy. It is neutral.
Behold the anguished ascent to the summit of unloving.
Heartstrings now severed. Better off.
My love is never practical nor wise.
To suffer is hopeful. Otherwise, why carry it?
My game is not hopelessness. I refuse to win in that fashion.
My stubborn nature insists on correctness in victory. I am no team player.
Don’t follow, but never dare to coach. You are not qualified.
Give me the heat of the asphalt as I crave cool streams.
This indignity of remembrance through the filtered eyes of tribal side choosers and snakes.
I’ll be the villain in all of your stories, though you know me only through the lens of biased anecdotes.
I smile with the silent indifference of unspoken truths forever withheld.
Never overestimate the pressure applied by forces easily resisted. I’m made of different dust.
spc
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