“We’ve all got both light and dark inside us.
What matters is the part we choose to act on.
That’s who we really are.”
No, sorry, that’s a Harry Potter quote.
I hope you won’t mind me sending vibrations down
The literary crossing of threads.
I want to meet your parallel universe self –
You know, the one that didn’t exchange his soul for eternal youth.
He might look like my great-grandfather,
The one who spent his life carving clocks,
Filling his house with hundreds of them,
A chorus of bombs
Ticking away the seconds of his life.
He might hold one in his shrinking, wrinkling hands
And smile like he’s been given a gift.
But that’s not the person Wilde wrote,
And that’s not the person I’m writing to.
You made Time your enemy –
Locking it away in the attic
Instead of spreading it out
On your walls.
I know you recognize yourself in me
Like the father that can see his own face
Along the curves of his daughter’s –
Watching himself repeat in time.
And yes, I have been afraid of death.
I’ve stayed up all night
Contemplating my bedroom ceiling
Sick to my stomach with the thought
That I might not wake up to it again.
Those were the times I put pen to sandpaper
And scratched my psyche away.
I’m not so naïve as to deny
The raw materials are there.
All it would take is a Lord Henry
To come along and sculpt them
Into a monster-looking thing
Of clay, and hair, and dry skin –
One with jagged teeth and
A wicked grin.
Because the essence of monster
Is in both of us.
I think the difference between you and I
Is that I cracked my monster –
Wrote it poetry to chew on
And broke its teeth.
You gave yours legs and
Taught it to walk.