the self isn't enough to justify anything

the self isn't enough to justify anything other than inertia
love must be attached to freedom
obligations smother the freedom that lets love blossom

why have I climbed over generic space to build you castles out of everything I can be?
everything I have?
you say: that's a nice castle. I'll sleep a night on the futon, but I think tomorrow I'll be leaving; I shan't be returning.

I demolish my castle and contemplate the sleeping stones
shedding a tear for all whose purpose has abandoned them

when things burn they cannot come back
when rain comes it cannot be turned back

i act only out of reflex

we act only out of mimicry
nothing is authentic and that's okay
everything is a symbol for something else which is yet another symbol down the infinite regress where a little light that burns as the heart of all things is nothing more than an illusion

all of this is pretend
we play at life
to embrace the pretense and make this your artform is a superior mode of being
(and leave life to the actors, the ones who don't believe in their own fraudulence)
they think they wrote their own lines and that their lives are their own

we know better

every word of poetry was made for you

any sweet word of poetry would be happy to know you and
even the cold words, the words of vomit giggle at the thought of you