“I’ve got the hands of a savior, but the mind of a man. I’ve got legs carved from oak, but they’re still secured to land. I believed I was stone. I was ready.
“Ready to scream into the ears of infamy, but I let myself become overgrown; forced out, made weak, dragged through this alone, because I’m an ape, dead.
“I never wanted to be another coattail traveler. Never wanted to be Icarus’ head on high. So, I give this to you: My plea to life: My open palm: My unrested nights: My protest song:
‘To remove my hands
from the gold laced sky,
break my ankles free
from this swamp like earth,
I foregrounded myself in now.’
“And I hope when the day comes that my feet never walk this earth again I’ll smile as the lights dim.”
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