Exposed

I write only when inspiration hits. Anything other than that would be forced and it wouldn't be a product of my natural abilities. Tonight I feel inspired by everything that doesn't make sense in the world. So while most people "freestyle," I'm going to allow my soul to convey some some typed words and hopefully they form a meaning that you can identify with...


I stand in the nude because I've been stripped of every emotion that I've ever felt.
I cover myself, as if to cover pain, lust, guilt and existence.
Still, I exist.
There's no escaping that.
I try to wrap my mind around ideas of a place where Love is more than 4 letters but a lifestyle.
a movement.
a guide to everything human and everything safe.
Instead I cover my naked body with generic uniformed smiles.
Internally I've been exposed.
Stripped naked of choices and forced to rely on memories of fantasies.
Memories of fantasies that represent the way things should be.
Unfortunately, things never occur the way they should.
If they did, I'd be standing here fully clothed or comfortable in my skin.

Posted in: MaRs Poetry