You are right,
there is no greater defeat
than laying my emotive truth
at your sanity’s feet,
handing gut to head,
heart to mechanical hands
and giving all that I am
to all that you know
But there is no counter
no liberating line
to defend my madness
against your certainty
even if I scream,
with desperate desire
that your sanity is madness
and my madness is divine
What you’ve built is concrete
what I’ve grown is meagre branches
You’ve fortified,
I’ve harvested
and while I’ve loved
you’ve honed a cutting edge
to facts fixed on slicing,
laying waste
and destroying my garden
Still, I can’t argue
because where I lean to weeds
you build
and where I waste
you produce
and I have no recourse,
no refusal
to deep founded plans
alien to my mad moments of bliss
So let me surrender
because you are right
and I am mad
but in time we’ll both see
that my stretching bows
will undermine all you do
because ‘You are right’ is said in a moment
but ‘I am alive’
goes forever
and no fact is more human
than the madness of defeat
Be sure to check out my new book No Cure for Shell Shock.