By Ronald McKinley

Am I to hurt all the time?

The beginning and ending.

Is it an unchecked line?

One point leading to another.

Why is it so?

No magic elixir to cure me.

No thought or process to find me.

Some idea to trick me.

This unpleasant moodful thing.

Held together by need and fear.

Want is far

from me.

Caught held captive

wound after wound

none healing fully

before another.

No chemical could stay this.

Most deep reflection brings more pain.

This path I resist.

I will not walk that way

before the echo of the last foot fall


I return to the same vista.

I could empty my lungs

all would be the same.

Come apart and see

nothing but pieces.

Motion does not give way

to movement.

Placement will not

for a place with space for all to be.

Doors I fear barriers

to enlightenment.

My feet are cold

no longer warmed

by the combustion

of true life fire.

I wrap my arms around my torso.

An act of love and loss.

I know there is only one way

not feel pain.

I don’t go there.

I will try to work with what I have.

The world will move

If I will.

The world will move

If I do not.

All is not lost

only misplaced.


Categories: Poetry