The Ralph Waldo Emerson Blues
- It's really too strange
How reading something written on paper
By a man who died 100 years ago
Is making me want to destroy myself
And rebuild everything again.
- At first I didn't believe what he had written
(My friends certainly don't,
And I still don't want to.)
But it stayed with me
Aching, destructive, beneficial.
- So I'm tearing myself down,
Laying a foundation of questions.
Painful and victorious.
Even if I don't know the answers yet.
Sometimes it is not multiple choice.
But the fact that I am asking questions,
As much as they sting,
Makes me wonder:
- Is this only shedding a skin,
Or losing a tooth?
It feels more like wingbuds
Ripping through to where my shoulder blades used to be.
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