I am childish in my deviance;
chaotic, but obvious.
I am all buttons and knobs,
to any passing stranger’s whims.
I cannot let you in
or you will play around
and change
these precise adjustments

these delicate proportions
of love and greed,
lust and anger, joy and fear,
that function;
that, if nothing else, survive.

Cupid waits for me at the bottom of the garden.
He is less willful now.
The years have tamed him.
He asks for consent.
I shake my head, and choose Identity instead.


4 thoughts on “Mush

  1. Going way back in my blog history [all the way to may, so an eternity ;)], I posted this:

    To analyse this poem here (I promise I won’t do that often), it obviously shows a fear of commitment since fully commiting to a person is always a threat to one’s own identity.

    There, I said it. No judgment intended, just an observation.

    Anyways. I like it. It also speaks to my fear of commitment (so much stronger than my fear of loneliness…).

  2. 🙂 That was a fairly obvious theme, wasn’t it? And feel free to analyze, with the caveat that things I write (labeled fiction, at least) aren’t necessarily drawn from personal experience.
    (Well. Maybe drawn from personal experience. But they are not… very good representations.)

    • Oh, I understand that it’s not necessarily personal experience. But I do believe that your writing says something about you. I just don’t know if I’m qualified to know what it is that it’s saying. 😉

  3. Pingback: Counterpoint « The Ego Chronicles

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