Axiom Poem by Craig Kerm

Living in axiom.
Aristotle,
you devil.
I'm next with everything else.
Apriori.
Still growing tired of waiting
for an ontological distinction
between the things that be
and the things that made them.
I'm growing
shorter and weaker
with each word that I speak
and each thought that I think
and each dream that I dream
and each love that I leave.

I watch days glide by
from deep inside
of clouds and sunshine.
Cool raindrops fall on my warm skin.
I'm aware of this.
I witness it happening.
But I don't know how.
I watch myself recede
back to where I believe
I'm going to call home again.
We're all born to bleed to death
born to run from each other and ourselves.
We're raised to be torn between
our selfish thoughts and everything else.
We sleep amongst the living
and live like we are dreaming
I'm aware of this,
but I still can't wake up
from my arduous energy thieving.