Apr. 13th, 2017

gonna try to get into the habit of once again writing at least a small amount of prose poetry a couple of times a week to start.

It's a skill I would like to develop, and I think I'll start out by keeping it separate from my regular poetry blog.

Seems like a good, renewed use of this kind of blogging space if I'm truly going to try and continue on from 14 years of LJ.
Recently, I lost a face I often use for public address purposes.

I believe I left it somewhere one evening when I was full of both drink and shame over being full of drink and the things I say and do when I am full of drink.

Came home empty-headed, blank, stumbling a bit as I crossed over my threshold.

If I'd had my public face on I might have been able to maintain my composure, but as I was without it, I slapped on the private face I use when I'm home alone and cried like a hypochondriac over a false notion of a need to end this misery -- and then I fell asleep.

Woke up feeling childish, a mere bug of a man. Big eyed, crawling, no longer certain that I have a spine or could fake such a thing. Pure exoskeleton. Easier than ever to squash.

I wonder who has that public face now, the one I wore for years, the one caked with self-confidence and bravado?

If I run into them on the street, will I recognize what I've lost if I see it on another? Will I be able to speak up for myself and what I've lost, or would my voice through the sloppy face I wear now in its place sound cricketish, fly-like, mosquitoesque?

I can't think about that over the buzzing.

July 2017

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