Rebel Against Our Archetypes

Rebel Against Our Archetypes
© Surazeus
2018 05 31

When I go outside and look at the sky
I see your bright eyes looking back at me
though you are dead and buried in the ground
where apple trees grow from your rotting heart.

I picture myself like some voodoo doll
to imagine what you might see in me
although the shadow on the wall conceals
my true feelings that I forgot about.

I make small puppet to imitate form
of my ever-changing soul to present
idol of my true self only you know
because I reign unseen in the glass tower.

I hope you see the me I cultivate,
designing my public mask with great care
to polish this character that I play
because its style expresses who I am.

Authentic is this social mask I wear,
for if you tear it off you tear my skin
so I smile exposed to indifferent wind
who wants to know how I identify.

This body I was born with aches with lust
so, do I define myself by who I sleep with
or by what I am when I sleep with someone,
though we share satisfaction of sweet pleasure?

I want to procreate my ancient self
who has lived reborn for millions of years
since I first woke in surging sea of light,
so I find opposite gender I am.

I cannot make love with you unless you
want to make love with me with sweet desire
so we create new life through ecstasy
that flashes love at the big bang of truth.

So was our universe ejaculated
through mind-blowing orgasm of creation
when sperm of desire penetrated egg
of cosmic singularity I Am?

What sparked expansion of material light
flaring forth from the first flash of fresh fun
so we transform from spiral sphere of love
to wake under the apple true of truth?

Because I aim glowing inside my head
I cannot see the me whom you perceive
so I become every person I see,
imitating them with creative flair.

Though you are dead our child is still alive
so you are alive in the child you made
though they rebel against our archetypes
to create their own personality.