Trapped in the Inside World

Masked angels escort me to a cold dungeon of thought.
I don’t know if I can escape, I don’t think I’m ready.
I need to understand the outside world better—
it’s consuming me, like time swallows minutes and hours.

You say I’ve lost compassion,

that I’m often rude, unforgiving,
distasteful.

But I have more compassion

than the sum of all mankind.

I don’t know what’s pulling me down.

I lay in the grass, shedding faith like a hot snake skin.
I’m exhausted from thinking.

So I clip the puppet strings—

I don’t care what people are collectively pointing at.
I’ll form my own opinions from scratch.

But the masked angels guard this cold dungeon of thought.

They don’t want me to escape, they don’t think I’m ready.
I need to understand the outside world better.


From the book Kairos (print version only)