I mentioned poet, right? Here's an introduction to my words. I don't expect them to be liked or disliked, or even understood. Poetry is highly subjective, it's all good if you think it's shit. It's even better if you dig it.
Off on a Jungian Bender
Many questions come to mind,
Can I be terrified
while at peace with mine?
An oxymoron at very best,
not surprising, although undressed.
Launching backwards - Introspection.
Seeing forward - Retrospection.
Finding the space that hides my blame,
taking shape within my brain.
My muscles ache from lifting weights,
the literal kind
inside my mind.
Time to venture out of doors,
walk the dog and stretch these muscles
Tight -
Like Atlas' shoulders
Shrug me off
to stretch my legs
S.
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