[Rigel]

Wrote this one a little while back when I was in one of those self-loathing moods that some artists occasionally fall into. I'm not sure if it makes sense, but part of the fun of literature is interpretation.

(preemptive source info: Also posted on my poetry blog.)

Sustenance

I took in a thousand banal words today
and digested them with logic.
I picked at them until I couldn’t take any more.

I set the plate aside.

They are the proteins, the grains, the necessary fats.
They are the training wheels removed, allowing for failure, but building balance if success is achieved.

I took my time chewing, and when I was full, I stood,
ready to be freed from them until next I need their nourishment.
My body cannot thrive without them.
My mind cannot endure.

Measure my growth in smiles and a nervous habit of crossing my arms.
See that I am becoming an adult.
Aren’t I?
Aren’t I?

I took in a thousand banal words today
and digested them with passion.
I kept going when I was full, gorging myself on hatred until I burst.