In Dealing with Bad Habits
I still have yet to find a purpose for my wallowing in unyielding pain
There must be some sort of spiritual benefit,
An enhancement of any kind that would reasonably place these random acts of violence against myself within an overall system of growth and progression,
But what must be is never how it seams itself together;
For there is a hand unseen accounting for the frayed stitching of space and time.
Without rhyme, reason, or rhythm towards which to shake a stick
I march on in self-loathing
Hoping that one day said self will subside from vision,
And that I would smite someone more deserving for once…
Or at least learn that violence is hardly ever the answer,
Or the question for that matter.
Copyright Keli Birchfield 2012