Riddles

let's speak in riddles, child.
i've grown weary of pure honesty.

brevity for brevity's sake
has worn thin.

i long for ambiguity.

twisted phrases,
twisted meanings.
knotted words,
to ponder,
to untie
and weave together into tapestry.

it's unsustainable,
this i know.

extended more than a moment,
it will tear us apart.

extended for more than a moment,
it will nullify
the painfully beautiful
and beautifully painful truths we've shared.

but for today,
and today alone,
let's speak in riddles.

Piecemeal

It was I who was not free
who lived in fear
It was I who was not free
who lived chained
It was I who was not free

It was I who in thinking I was above them
sunk below them

It was I who seeking the right path
strayed so far from the multitude of right paths

It was I who debased emotion
only to be ruled by the worst of emotions

It is I who now faces a choice
change or don't
fight or cringe
feel or fear

It will not be easy
It will not be worthwhile
But it would be less worthwhile
to have done only that which was easy

Meaning cannot be found
It must be constructed
piecemeal
from both exuberance and devastation
hopefully not in equal parts