What I am

November 15, 2016
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I am a wanderer, a warrior, and a saint
I paint the world with colors never seen before
the beat of my drum has a mind of its own
the glass in my scope has a better reflection than most mirrors
when I’m calm I pray
when angry I lay melee to everything in sight
my might known to no one except me and God
I’ve travelled the highway of life
and made it here at nine o’clock at night
now set on my path
I only see one road
dragging my feet so I won’t fall
calling out to empty voices
who heard me, but never listen
so I leaped off the path to find peace
yet all I found was pestilence
now I stand wandering… wondering
where do I go
do I run away farther
or do I stay here and hope to be found
I was found once
but I didn’t know how to say “thank you”
and she left
now I’m back at the start
looking in the past to find the future
staring at a blank screen trying to find something
anything to get out of the hidden space between the couch cushions and the concrete wall that you hit when you’re forced to back up
Those  watching “The life of Kyle” would be screaming at their television sets
for trying so hard to see what’s in front of me
when all I had to do was pull the curtain
to find that my prison cell was only a dream
and the rain clouds which hung heavy about my head  were only smudges on my sun glasses
and if I’d only taken them off
I would have seen that the wall I’d built was but a single stone
and that when I saw I was alone
I had an army behind me that’d put Uncle Sam to shame
my loneliness a my magic trick
to fool the world
but when I reached into the hat
the rabbit was gone
ran away with the dish and the spoon along with everyone else
leaving me alone to face my fears
and they say the hardest thing an abandonment patient can say is hello
when I heard the word escape my breath I kicked myself for it
but then something happened
something not foretold in scripture
another “hello”
this was never done before
I froze
paralyzed in fear
as if I’d seen death itself
In this instance my confidence threw my fear on a shelf 
And I took a look at death and said “My name is Kyle”
with that death had transformed into a best friend
now being thrown to the wolves is playing football in the school yard
now being thrown off a cliff is skydiving with the birds
no longer will fear be the puppeteer
my thoughts and emotions will be holding the strings from now on

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