Mirrored reflections

I looked my reasons in my outs

Found a fairly well-to-do dilemma

Where asking what is choice

And choice is what

We take a ride and count what seats are left

To slide into a right construct of mind

Where tender hoofbeats glaze the round and round

 

I try to decide what bouncing does its best

To choose the pickled ingratitude

Over time and niceties that rot like sores

Crumble into their own putrefied completion

Choice! The free will that’s never free

You thought it was me

But I followed the wave the course the beginnings to your ends

I let the rising names grip me

For what are we but the puppets on god-like strings

I have a point here somewhere

Where you thought I chose my path and made my burden

It wasn’t me

Oh no

Only my socks are here

And maybe a little tunafish drifting on the wind

The rest said it’s your world by god and you can have it

I rest my case

Did as I was told

Held to heart what hearts could hold

 

I’ll take the reigns and you’ll forgive me for being exact

The tune was never mine but now I’ll sing

And stardust falls to tape the naked reign-dears to the moon

It’s not what all I meant

But meant my all

For what can every cataclysm bring

But the next begins to fall while the rest don’t need a thing (oh no, not angry warts or maddened drives)

For worlds to swoon a gentle tug until each tug

Becomes the call and distance (for hopes will be my end

But you can’t see me

Never did)

 

I’m not dead yet

And dead is not yet, too

 

It’s hard to be a shell that’s filled with so much crap

That what is me

Is mostly participles of you