I do not want to report to anyone regarding progress,
I do not want to be held accountable,
I do not want to be a mice, a cockroach, a fly with the ambition of becoming an elephant.
I am not big and I will not be bigger or better than anyone or anything outside myself.
Within the limits of my consciousness I will never build a ladder to look out ways to jump above the fence
And to forget the roots that give me strength,
I will not crave upon perfection other than a self-destructive flair for soul connection
And with this piece I will not gain effect, inspire, nor reflect the personal, possessive
That a gazillion questions stroke upon me cannot take and turn into expressed.
To this aversion I will pin a magnet to attract the random mess
And suddenly the empty bucket that my handful makes
Will not be airbrushed or filled with others’ pity and regret.
And if, oh only for a second if I feel ashamed
Then let the memory of this confession
Obstruct my vision and destroy the dozens chains of momentary doubt,
That in my blood there is no true amount of sickness
To put a human being in the position to reject the greatest honour
Of hallucinating an escape outside one’s skin,
And spend the good part of their life
Believing that what hasn’t got a matter matters,
Believing that we are not vanishing with age
And if we were to grow a sacred tension
We have to, not in others but within ourselves
Where trace of multiple identities is kept
Only where it would be right to steal from, alter,
Make and then