"perception" by Taruni Tangirala
perception
there are holes where my truths used to be.
slithering slithely past the guards of uptight
veracity, qualms occupy the cavities of
self-honesty. sincerity is scary, but
i pull the bowstring of introspection
and it reverbrates, singing along to the
pulsating confusion that perpetually
enlightens me. and i aim — right towards the
center of disrupting fragility.
yet the arrow only hits its mark while embracing
it. and i can only conquer the target of fragility if
my ammunition embraces it — accepts it. the bow,
held tightly taut, shudders with anxiety in its
final stretch of affirmation. flesh turning white by
the pressure of cold metal on its grip, arrows of
discernment rather than disillusion holding their
potential energy against the wind, and my rigid
scapula slackens as my fingers release.
Photo Credit: Staff