blogging

disembodied and faceless
i speak through a thousand eyes
never all closed at the same time
winking across miles and states and nations
publication without profit
i speak to the murmuring internet
and some may hear
and few may listen
perchance though i am passed
out-blogged with catered subjects
or flashy lay-outs
or platitudinous encouragement
or lush self-flagellation
or the banalities which fill our days and posts
and which ultimately yield meaning
fulfillment
is it so truly an admirable goal?
can it be a goal fulfilled?
is it happiness or the pursuit that matters?
i am not fulfilled
in fact i'm rather alienated
so i shout into the darkness
and my words are quite literally illuminated
should an eye be open
i shout into the roar hoping to be heard
seems absurd
no i am not fulfilled
nor wealthy nor popular
i am shy
and too smart and too pretty for my own good
i am not fulfilled but i am full
full of memory and hope
and few things hurt like that duo
someone full of memory and hope can appear absent
but he is full
he is full of regrets and old wishes
so now a change
shout into the roaring darkness
without a body, face, or name
and be heard for once maybe
be heard by the unseen
perhaps you hear me now
perhaps you're listening
well i will show myself to you from the inside out
first these disembodied thoughts
soon a gesture or a smile
then i may restring my bones tie on my flesh and zip up my skin
and you will see me
naked shaking and beautiful
and you will see the scars
and understand how they are memory
and how they are hope
and i will love you a little bit more
and trust you with my name