chisel

is it so simple  
this acceptance of the way things  
are  
were  
will be

this reality grows loudly within  
the quiet cracks of stillness  
flickering flickering flickering  
relentless of late  

but who's to say  
that desperate to be 'normal'  
desperate to be understood  
desperate to fit in is a bad thing  

who's to say?  
who's to say?  
who's to say?

and who's statue am i carving  
to what purpose do i set my chisel  
cleanly shedding stone  
letting parts of me fall to the floor  

why strike here?  
why spare there?  
am i the sculptor?  

no, i think not  
no, i think not  
no, i think not  

but if this statue turns out  
beautiful and accepted  
then is desperate justified  

what other versions of beauty  
lie discarded on the floor  
discarded so it may be  
deemed complete

 what made them unworthy?  

 who's to say?  
 who's to say?  
 who's to say?  

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8tvrpx/bricks/e1c5x9b/ https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8u2nw2/ivy/e1c5bzn/