Friday, July 7, 2017

They have no final essence
Like butterflies
darting here and there
Like piercing eyes
and a clenched fist
They can be a source of
great joy or harm.
Vessels of love.
Bullets of hurt.
They hold no ultimate power
or meaning.
Yet, if allowed,
do both.
They can be remembered
as something real or
   forgotten as they are not.
They infect and affect my mind.   
Are illusionary
in delusional
and illusionary ways.
Ultimately, not to be trusted
      For their ability to be

No comments: