My Naiveté


My naiveté
Was so fond of disjointing
Ribs folding within themselves
To befit your Rubik’s cube
Toes perked
And throat stretched
Desperate to reach the pinnacle
Of that insurmountable ego

When my discomfort
Was crushed and swept into your nostrils
To make the high trudge on for eternity
Since your stimulant of choice
Was unquestionably


Naiveté now
But then
At that time
It seemed the whispers of wisdom
Caressing my earlobe
And swallowing a piece of me
For its own satiation

I understand now
As I cling to the gray strands
Of the withered and teeth-less
That what I sought to accomplish
Was fill an abyss of misery
With good company

Naiveté indeed…