Killing the Hero

If I could somehow split
my head in parts
and allow multitudes inside
to comfort and cleanse 
what they found there, 
I would.

Open my face
like a vault door.
Let in anyone 
who offered to help.
I would.

Asking for help
is not my thing
because in the past when I
was far less what I am now,
too often the helpers
acted more like vandals
or thieves; it is hard
to open my head now
knowing what’s been 
stripped or taken.

If I could open my present
as I have opened my past
I might find a future.

Saying that is so easy
it must be false.

Saying that is so easy
and I am not. 

Saying I will open the vault doors
of my eyes, shut the alarm
of my mouth, and then let anyone in
who offers?

Saying it like that
is like ending a story
too early. Like

killing off the hero
before they even start
the journey.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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