wreckage / remains

the black box went missing
after it happened
whatever it was

someone broke into the cockpit     maybe?
and took something
whatever something was
that something was mine

i took flight

here’s what i’ve got
i’ve got wreckage
i’ve got a fuselage, a vessel, a body
of wreckage
and a diagnosis
so complex
i don’t understand it
so complex
it’s traumatic
a diagnosis so complex
i don’t understand
myself

that little black box
holds the key, the truth
to the story
to my story

but the black box
black-hole like
is a vacuum
is an abyss
exists in absence

the black box is lost
within the universe i orbit
within parts unknown
without parts known

the black box is lost to parts unknown
it is, to parts, unknown
parts know its contents
the secrets it holds
the secrets i hold and withhold
inside myself
from myself

time
so much time i’ve spent
searching for that black box
for its contents
in my memory

time i can’t reclaim
of times i can’t recall
times gone within i am without

sometimes it’s unbearable
to know what you know
so you keep your secrets
hidden from yourself
in a black box
on a vessel
that’s crashed
and burned
and remains
remains
remains

 

Charred-Hillside

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