flawed
we seemed to have been born knowing the dark underworld,
the slow moving current with vicious riptides and random whirlpools.
we know and see the grunting, seeking, pleading desperation of most who don’t, won’t, can’t see it in themselves.
but it’s not within us, never within us, cover that thought right up. stuff it into a canvas bag with a brick and let it sink.
standing still amid the flurry of activity, the currents of humanity, the unfocused river, wondering how in the hell someone can muster that level of frantic aimless energy when it’s all we can do to simply summon the will to create a reason to move.
yes, ms. shamaya, perfectly flawed…
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“If we do not know ourselves to be full of pride, ambition, lust, weakness, misery, and injustice, we are indeed blind. And if, knowing this, we do not desire deliverance, what can we say of a man…?”