“The Hruth Turts”

I remember a short short time ago,

When I was guilty of ignorant innocence.

Feet firmly entrenched in the ridges of privilege.

Head in the clouds,

Better yet pushing through the aperture of my digestive end.

I knew and didn’t listen.

Fissure running along and creating a fault in my reasoning.

Who’s fault?

Our fault.

Your fault.

My fault.

Just listen.

Listen to hear.

Experience unknown.

How could it be this way?

I thought I knew.

I never knew.

I didn’t listen.

Passive listening.

Reactive listening.

Active listening.

Fishing among missing.

Central differencing.

About to get on.

Still.

The hruth turts.

But it is a pain worth enduring in order to elevate my fellow travelers to this level.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

My Life with PTSD & Bipolar

Mental Health Matters

eMAGINE

Blue Fences

The Vile Mint

Poetry, Short Stories and Violent Ideas

Life, As Kevy Michaels

Transformed By Meeting That Which I'm Not

Sharmaji's Solutions

Unique Answers To All Kinds of Questions

%d bloggers like this: