I'm tired of fighting
I'm tired of fighting
Fighting for a lost cause
I'm tired of fighting
Fighting for a lost cause
“Lost Cause,” Beck
the fingers of my left hand
trace the Braille of scars
across the back of my head
etched by all the times i have fallen
inspecting the hairless landscape
left from my shaving over scars
an act done blind in the shower
my head bowed slightly as if praying
and my eyes closed in concentration
i have committed more than most men
shaving my head and part of my face
(leaving a Van Dyke as decoration)
like a woman caving to convention
conforming to properly shorn peers
i shave my legs as well for cycling
•
who am i sculpting
who am i looking for
not me not me not me
•
there is always blood from these rituals
usually felt and then revealed on my finger
scarring the scars that tell the silent story
of a man shaving away himself searching
for someone else looking back at him in the mirror
who has perfected the art of not falling backward
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