When everything is comorbid with one
another,
It's hard to tell where one thread ends and another begins.
By all means, try to untangle--
Still a wandering child wondering why winter colds
Bring red noses and raspy throats.
I wonder, if, somehow,
Maybe this is how it's always been.
That my life has just been constant shitshow one after another,
And a rare genetic defect afflicting me, apparently,
Well, it's just another joke in a routine.
Make the worst show on Broadway,
Raise two million,
Run off with it to Rio. Yep, that's me.
It's a real shame, telling people about
this unknown entity,
Afraid I'm going to die. Brother,
If I was gonna die, I would have been dead already. Trust me.
(Though not trustworthy through my health chart.)
I'm not sure where to go or what to do,
And I wonder if I had met him 11 years ago,
Would I have ended up so hollow, sullen, and sad?
I would have had a father, after the fall. I could have been
"Jason not alone." But it's a lot to hope for,
So back to what's growing inside all my relatives,
Back to what's trickling down to me from this funny thing called
evolution.
Humanity. Endless wonder. I look up to the stars, I look down to the
sea,
I see my reflection in them. Do other people see me, too?
Do other people hear me? Do I make an impact?
Are my thoughts heard, or are they just as jumbled as they are inside?
Well, next time I go to the doctor, I'll ask another question.
Will I ever get well?
Well, maybe never.
Whatever happens, I'm not an anomaly, I'm
me.
Me, myself, I, whatever I understand happening, happens.
Don't put me on your vivisection table just yet.
You can cut me down to a genome, split me down to an atom,
But you won't find me there, under the microscope,
Under scrutiny.
I'll be back where your eyes rest two inches apart,
Lonely, hungry,
And I'll be waiting, too.
So come, see me, hear me,
Feel me, breathe me and my life,
Breathe what's here before I'm gone.
I stand and pray for another 60 years.