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For belief...

When I Was Younger I Believed

Picby Marc Lionhart03 May 2015

At a young age, I cursed at the sky when I stubbed my toe

I would beg for forgiveness, or offer bribes to it

Whatever was up there, I believed in it, blind for I didn't need my eyes

I would plea for an answer, a sign, an anything to confirm my weeping washed in the affirmation of my surroundings

My sponge-like brain absorbed the teachings of the curriculum throughout my time in lower education

But the sponge became full, and important things began to spill out

Onto the floor splashed a blended mixture of critical bullshit

A concoction of hypocrisy

And so I drained my sponge, wrung it over the bathroom sink until it was as squeezed as was my concept of reality

I was left blank, at the merciless whim of blackened bleakness

For a good while it consumed me, ate at me until I displayed bones and nothing more

Yet to this day, lines less twisted now, things remain complicated with an unending relent

Enlightenment came in the guise of knowing as it often does

Knowing one will survive beyond death, or knowing they don't know

I begin to clean the mess surrounding the gaps between my toes with a paper towel.