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𝙃𝙊𝙏 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙇s
𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚢

POETRY
03-10-02022

I fucked up & saw my 𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖆𝖗. It caught me totally off my guard.

I saw it clear as all hell & I told myself . . .

“𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖆𝖗.”

“𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖆𝖗, 𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗜 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖆𝖗.”

Because this ＧＯＤ prefers soft prayers, childish prayers.

Celebration & play prayers.

This ＧＯＤ is content in chaos.

This ＧＯＤ likes a prayer that smiles & asks for help.

I don’t know any soft, weak-ass, prayers.

I know 🅂🅃🅁🄾🄽🄶 prayers.

Ａｕｓｔｅｒｅ prayers.

Prayers of endurance to aloof spirits who watch the world like a 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙.

Prayers of preparation for a future lumbering forwards like a 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙.

I pray for unshakable dignity & stoicism & fortitude.

With prayers like these, I’ve built thick walls.

Walls for N̾u̾k̾e̾s & Ex̾t̾r̾e̾m̾e̾ ̾We̾a̾t̾h̾e̾r̾.

A fallout shelter for this soft, weak, 𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖆𝖗.

But I fucked up & saw it.

I saw myself there.

7 years old, sitting on a soft rug printed with roads & streets,

I’m lining up my precious 𝙃𝙊𝙏 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙇 cars.

I’m beckoning myself to play.

R̷̛̹̞̋́̆ ̴̨̨̞͖̗͔̩̹̬̄́́̑͘A̵͕̜͉̎̔͛̋̌ ̸̛̩̻̙͈͂̓̽̔̅̓̐̔̕Ġ̶̛͎̄̔̍ ̸̛̬̲̮̘̋́̈́̓̂̋̀Ȩ̸̡̢͔̹̟̳̦̒

How is the ＧＯＤ on the 𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖆𝖗 my smallest softest part?

How can I trust a child ＧＯＤ?

This enlightened hedonist is at ease & aimless.

Making play a prayer, oblivious to 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 and 𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪 and 𝔻𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕤 big 𝔻𝕒𝕪.

“R̷̛̹̞̋́̆ ̴̨̨̞͖̗͔̩̹̬̄́́̑͘A̵͕̜͉̎̔͛̋̌ ̸̛̩̻̙͈͂̓̽̔̅̓̐̔̕Ġ̶̛͎̄̔̍ ̸̛̬̲̮̘̋́̈́̓̂̋̀Ȩ̸̡̢͔̹̟̳̦̒ as long as you need.” I feel myself say.

R̷̛̹̞̋́̆ ̴̨̨̞͖̗͔̩̹̬̄́́̑͘A̵͕̜͉̎̔͛̋̌ ̸̛̩̻̙͈͂̓̽̔̅̓̐̔̕Ġ̶̛͎̄̔̍ ̸̛̬̲̮̘̋́̈́̓̂̋̀Ȩ̸̡̢͔̹̟̳̦̒ 10000 lifetimes, some do. Doesn’t matter.

R̷̛̹̞̋́̆ ̴̨̨̞͖̗͔̩̹̬̄́́̑͘A̵͕̜͉̎̔͛̋̌ ̸̛̩̻̙͈͂̓̽̔̅̓̐̔̕Ġ̶̛͎̄̔̍ ̸̛̬̲̮̘̋́̈́̓̂̋̀Ȩ̸̡̢͔̹̟̳̦̒. There is still a child playing on the 𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖆𝖗. A child that has played pleasantly through all the petty 𝔻𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕤.

T̴̥̰͖͚͉̳̦͌̐̀̃̅̋̍͂͝͝ ̸̡̰̘̝̮̙̻̊̄̌É̵͙͎̱͚̫̥͇̔̃̌͂͠ ̷̢̤͇̈́̂̒A̷͍͝ ̴̻̹̖̥̦͔̹͚̪͒̊͆̂̑̓̍̀͜͠Ŗ̵̱̺̱̀̓ ̶̢̹͓͓̮̮̅̉͝Ṣ̶̘̤̘̮̐̃͂̿̅̋̚ now, & greif.

ＧＲＩＥＦ ＆ ＧＲＩＥＦ ＆ ＧＲＩＥＦ& 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝒻

The 𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖆𝖗 magnatism is stong.

I know I’ll kneel beside the strength of the child ＧＯＤ of the softest parts.

The ＧＯＤ is soft, the 𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖆𝖗 is soft, & there is room for me when I am soft.

“So, I can just play then?”

If you’ll let yourself you 𝐵𝐼𝒢 𝒮𝒯𝑅♥𝒩𝒢 𝑀𝒜𝒩.