-
Jun
18
- 1 note
- thethinkman,
- poetry,
- View Post
One of “Them”
Everyday I struggle through, fighting the flow, keeping myself from assimilation. Removing limbs to stop infections, like large explosions to suck oxygen away from smaller fires, suicide today to prevent pain tomorrow. Hitting the gas to dig the only deeper into the earth. Perhaps my own grave. No, not quite, though I wish it were. They pull me from the hole I’ve dug myself while trying to get out, but at a price - I see the glory of their ways, through resisted transition. “Never one of them!” I scream in my attempt to preserve my countercultural status quo, as its foundational structure crumbles beneath my feet. My foundation demolishes, yet I stand taller than before, and see farther. It seems not that I have grown, but that the Fog of War has cleared - I am now one, with everything I wished to escape from. One of Them.


