Wednesday, August 28, 2002

Is it ok to be me?
Unfettered and cornered. Scared and powerful. Chained and released.
Chains with flowers, they look good and photograph well.

I walked ahead and looked back.

I sit in a house with four walls and twenty books and glide over a tar walkway in unsoled shoes. When I look at the sky, I cry.
I do not want any rules but mine. But my words are not always of my own making. They talk in voices I don't like and use tongues I've never heard.
Conflict is undesirable. It makes me look at things I don't want to see and takes away my will to will.

God in Heaven and I'm under a canopy. You can only see one of us at a time.
Choose my friend. He and I are on the same side, but you don't have that luxury.