bastards of distraction
poem and commentary
I want to give another huge thanks to all my paid-subscribers so far. I’m truly filled with joy over your generosity. So, here it is, my second paid-only post. It’s a very personal piece. The commentary, I’ll admit, was difficult to write. I hope you look at it with sensitivity. If you want to read more exclusive commentaries like the one right below this poem, go ahead and hit that upgrade button. Catch you all soon…
the pull of the past
steals my attention
breaks an ironclad focus
on the truth that’s at hand
breath becomes lost
as I stumble across
a familiar face
on a page,
a page that sears and stings
with the pain of regret —
regret that it might have been me
staring right back,
might have been me there
rightfully on track,
but instead the whole thing
strikes me right back
so far back, I need to remind myself
of the new, real, and fervent fire
that now burns within —
the very flame that replaced
that old smothered pile
of smoking and tormented ash,
once stifled by sick and cruel hands
and darkening eyes who never really
saw the power, never really had the faith
and never felt the realness inside me —
never, ever understood…
so I shake myself free
of the off-putting distractions
that so insidiously poked holes
in my present reality,
that so subtly threatened
to steer me off my path
I tell myself, no, this page, this sight
this thing isn’t you, isn’t right
you know what you’ve become —
what you’re becoming,
and that’s what you will own,
for better and forever,
completely unique and entirely yourself
Garbage Notes: