Thursday, August 07, 2014


Rip off the skin, not only the scab.
Remove the person, not only the mask.
Recover from life, not only the addiction.

A grand piano needs to be climbed inside not just tinkered with.
Playing for time oftentimes only unwinds the clock.
Play your greatest misses, not just the hits.

We pray for a miracle when everyday happenstance is a blessing all its own.
We wish for shit until our hands are covered in it, and then we bitch about our dire circumstances.
We travel many a mile believing there is dignity in distancing ourselves from the mother ship when all we’re really doing is running in place, out of step and out of time.

I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.
Hell, I’m not even a writer. Just read my rejection slips, keeping in mind we’re all born with a crossroads to ultimately face and then do away with.
The writing was on the wall and then it was tattooed onto her back and still she was uninteresting and lacked any honest to God subtext.

Break apart not only attempting hold everything together, but making an effort to become realized and not just preconceived or predisposed.
Break down not only through the premise of this play on articulated words and whatnot.
Break from conventional wisdom, finally understanding that the winds that tore you to shreds in Chicago are the very same winds that someday will put you back together again.

Charles Cicirella

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