We Are Born Diminished

We are born diminished,

baffled by reality,

whispering to familiar phantoms, because that’s really all that keeps us sane.

We are crushed by our own veracity

and irony stings.

No one lives on their own terms because silence announces itself

and we fold ourselves into escapes

because innocence is just much too pliable.

You must have known it would never work…!

All the same.

They cling to insignificant dust, illuminated through cracks

In the knotted walls containing us.

You exhale with naive avidity that controls you,

curled toes and all

and somehow the smallest accidents always sting the most.

And we think we’re so different

but we have distance and removal and insatiable need for understanding

so tell me it doesn’t thrill you, thieving votary,

to see my recognition,

because that’s all they strive for.