fish

first you build a house.

joints and joists,

bones and ligaments,

thoughts and attitudes,

angles and altitudes,

floors, walls, ceilings,

and all the stuff you need 

to put in your house.

this is mine, you say.

then you make a home.

joints and joists,

bones and ligaments,

thoughts and attitudes,

angles and altitudes,

floors, walls, ceilings,

and all the stuff you need

to make your house a home

this is ours, you say.

then, one day

you awake with a peculiar kind of madness

and to the rising sun you ask:

am i a bird to wander the morning sky?

am i a fish to swim the vast oceans alone?

one day you awake to a peculiar kind of madness

and to the late morning sun you say,

i am a kind of sickness to myself:

i am a kind of loss, and sadness.

one day you awake to a peculiar kind of madness

and to the afternoon sun you ask:

what will become of me?

i am burning up. i am aflame from within.

the moon watches you in the evening.

and you think:

the moon has no judgement. it's just the moon.

then you think:

the moon judges everything, the moon judges everyone.

yes, you are a bird to wander the morning sky.

yes, you are a fish to swim the vast oceans alone,

but right now you are a kind of sickness to yourself,

and a kind of loss, and sadness,

and yes, right now, you are aflame from within.

one day you will wake up with a peculiar kind of sanity,

and know you once were lost,

but now am found.