Tastes Like Irony

Isn't it funny?

That I am just trying to

Get away from myself,

Find some relief from

Myself without losing

Myself and retaining the

Bits that are me

As if I really ever truly

Existed

As this or as that?

Do you find it funny?

Amusing that I can't stand to

Be within my own skin,

Stretched over my bones like

Drying hide over a skeleton,

Isn't it?

You pinned down my wings

Silver needles topped with pearls

Watched me flutter to death.

You preserved everything;

Every color, every texture,

Every bit that was left.

But then it all turned around,

Didn't it? You begged me for life.

You said you could no longer

Preserve the vision of what should be.

You said a carcass shows nothing,

Just a shell of once was.

No memory of the soul,

Of the story that rests in the seams.

I bent all of the pages back

As if I'd never read them again,

Burned every bridge I had and

It was then that I finally

Learned to swim.

It was only then that I finally

Learned to swim.