Nothing Comes From Nothing.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

something comes out
from nothing, unless you are
God

i admit, when i write, and what i write,
comes from something
real, but for one reason of another,
we give it the appearance of fiction,
and so
i make you believe that it came from
nothing, just a random fruit in the mind
of the incidental imagination.

something happened, but you have no word
for it,
something crashed but you cannot say it
something hurt, but you cannot describe it
you have no courage to report it to the police
you have no guts to tell even Mom or Dad,
something is so intimate and intertwined
with you that if you begin to remove it, though
carefully and slowly, if by mistake you disentangle
the most essential part of it,
you die.

and you do not want this to happen
but it is there inside you about to explode
and will kill you just the same and in the this world
of compromise
you sign a pact with yourself,
we transport all these in the world of fiction
it happened, and it will happen again
but this time, the names are no longer there,
the places are interchanged, the events all messed up
to create no mark, no indication as to who and what and where,
and the only one left, is the why.
the reason is there, and it still tells the truth
and you were there, and you cannot anymore tell
if it was you, or someone else.
the mind works well, it knows too well, it conceals, and
buries, and the tomb is so silent
the stone hand made by the sculpture
bears no name, no birth date,
so smooth and so beautiful.