Everyone Knows the Disconnect

I.
Everyone knows the disconnect
Between the rugged day hours of mingling with dust
And the simple night hours of peace in silence.
The two are so disjointed there's comfort in them;
They remind us of ourselves and the faces we keep,
How we're never one creature but a myriad of hosts,
Denying some always while wearing a few.
We are disconnected from ourselves as night is from day,
Cut in half and divided again with every definition.

II.

We are monsters with many heads and many arms.
We sit at tea parties making our halos
With glue and good deeds and smiles and hygene
And some halos work - as the Saints will attest -
But most are just trash that we try and wear above our heads.

III.

I want to strike down my sham halo and what it represents!
I don't want to be the good person people think I am,
Because I'm not that person, its just the glare from my halo.
I've read the tag and it was built in China, not heaven.
I am trapped in expectations under the title,
"Good Son,""Good boyfriend," "Good guy," "Good lover," "Good pawn,"
But I'm bigger and better than those labels, deep into imperfection
And rising above all my faults to try and form a sincere being
Worth knowing, worth having around, worth studying.
But I get yelled at when I'm honest
And shy away from what I fear.
No one gives me the benefit of the doubt or leeway or time to think for myself.
I'd rather be honest with myself than have money in the bank
But honesty is cheap and you're forced to make a living.

IV.

And so we roam on into time,
Calling day and night a unit of twenty four hours
When they are sides of the Universe at opposite ends.
And we find ourselves fragmented, somewhere in between,
Knowing wholeness makes no sense,
It is unobtainable at every angle.

We are always Richard the Second standing in front of a broken mirror,
Privately humbled to know we do not know ourselves.


08/09