She wanted to end her life,
this was It.
Thousands of times before repeating
and repeating requests unheard,
the heart of the matter.

What is life worth
if not embracing paradox;
anything less is negating its own terms,
non-negotiable.

Acceptance is, perhaps,
what we have come to learn.
Eyes wide open, notice all around
bursts of energy leaking through rust
in human veneer, wasted
on doing battle with what Is.

Complicating the dance, gods
in multicolored costumes called
by other names even they
cannot know.

If we realized identities
of the Masters leveled squarely
in our blistering sights, blurred now
through the lens cap of confusion,
sacrificial lambs bleating defeatedly
at misplaced accusations, blame
for our own lack of peace and contentment,
what then?

rust_by_struckdumb