My Life on Blast

 I guess that is what my will aches to do. DEssiminate like a development specialist over the soul. I have wailed and walked a type of grief walk, i know 

                                     There are circles in the gravel reaching back from where i trailed 

                                            Hey ya     

                         There’s medicine in my hair     

       I’m still bitter from the taste. Medicine is not sweet. Medicine may prick, medicine contains ticks, medicine is all about timing. Medicine isn’t nice. Medicine doesn’t judge. Medicine brings relief. Relief differs from saviorism. 

I am not called to be the savior of my life. I am not called to dominate my life. 

I am not called to be a good human. 

Goodness is not a birthright. 

Will and erection is a birthright. 

             Learning theycells is a birthright. 

       Water is a birthright. 

Even these medicines live in captivity. 

I want to write from captivity. From my own as a Vee. 

From colonialism’s transfer into post coronial infrustructures which is the next 25 years in the making. 

...

Cultivation and consent... 

consent and curiosity, 

Vulnerability and patience, 

Determination and persistence, 

Patience and joy. 

These are offerings not otherwise classified in the body building idealization of the soul. 

These breathes that imply, take, and offer simultaneous.