9700
Mildly ugly disposition
Flat footed stance
feeling as if I were an echo....
A reverberation of depth I could only ever aspire too.
Echoes of my mothers heartbeat,
Echoes of the magic she pulled from her being to imagine me into existence,
Echoes of my father's deepest fears and most gruesome acts,
Echoes of the self love he could never truly embrace.
An unhinged vibration of The Creators truest compassions,
An unbridled reverberation of wild faith...
Echos of the version of myself that is to ugly to unleash upon this world.
Echoes of my maternal grandmother's helplessness,
Echoes of the pain she swallowed...
Echoes of the fear she crushed beneath her feet,
An echo of the types of freedom she would never know as a girl child born to a callous hearted man.
An echo of divinity,
An echo of my ancestral rage.
An echo of my great grandfather's cruelty.
Echoes of both of his wives sovereignty before their lineage captivity... also the lack there of, after.
A staunch reminder of the desolation of my addictive personality.
A blatant reminder of the darkest parts of me.
A violent whisper rousing you from complacency.
Echos of my fathers unmitigated self indulgence,
Echos of his mothers intelligence...
... sternness
...coarseness
...bluntness
For I am every piece of them.
A crass amalgamation.
As are you ,,, A I am you... As you are me...
In all of our exponential and existential crises and the human condition...
Though existence comes with a particular feeling of solace,
No one person's dread is unique.
Every one of us feels the anxiety and muted chaos that slowly boils beneath the surface of what we call life.
Each and every one of us ...
... a pious, gorgeous, majestic piece of the creator's beautiful cosmo stained glass.
