the fool

The beginning and the end, it all feels similar.
Hanging on the coat rack by shoulder blades,
unnumbered and belonging to no one but a king and queen,
when they were but poor and could not afford coats.
A calling to test dummies, you can see his crash and burn in first person, as I do.
If you’re fortunate, you will simply be a bystander watching the fool dance with doom and pleasure, switching from lead to piñata,
devoured by obese children that love the stench of untapped potential.
Noses like dog tongues,
the sun rises rare,
extra bloody for the hounds disguised as men.
Like a mutt,
I see the world in blue,
yellow and gray.
The direction of my next step is unknown,
off the cliffs to my death?
or simply a step or two down onto the skeletons of once massive granite,
pulverized by the tears and hyperventilation of God.
Yes, I too have anxiety attacks.
A glare at the sky and tip toe into the material world.
This bag of wishes in hand has lost its fingers and can no longer count how many times the white rose has torn off its own petals,
begging an answer to the age old game of she loves me and
she loves me not.
Goosebumps become mountains behind me,
pushing me out to face well done reality.
I call myself a dumb ass every time I fuck up but I picked a card and flipped it over only to get
The Fool
I asked the tarot reader
“what’re you trying to say? I don’t believe in the paranormal anyway.”
I ran away as fast as I could,
off the cliffs,
I fell face first into Destiny.

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