Mirages of satisfaction are swept away
when the wind of cool realization blows
and the heat of expectation wafts through
the window and you’re standing at the mirror alone.
Nothing is titillating here because the stark nakedness
of failures and short lived plans stands before you,
an image in a cracked mirror of memories
that speeds toward shattering in the winter of realization.
It is a contrast between attention and distraction.
You cannot focus your attention on the whole
of past failures
when the image you see is jig sawed.
Don’t hold your breath here. Touch it; breathe upon it,
and watch it shatter. Watch the false image of past failures
explode into millions of pieces of short lived plans
that scatter like tiny diamonds all over the floor at your feet.
Don’t move from here. Bask in this breath;
bask in the winds of cool realization that cracked a lie
into a thousand pieces because lies cannot hold together
beneath the weight of this realization:
Your life. Crucified.